
Class 



Book 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



/ 







29 UW/ 



\l^ fanea^tep %V^\<^\i (goo<k^ 



BY l/^ 

■HuJ Persis F. Cha 



SE 



"Tliere lies a village in a peaceful vale 
With sloping hills and waving woods around.' 



AUG 29 1887'/) 



'^K 



OF 



Wif8H\^ 



BRATTLEBORO, VT. : 

Frank E. Housh & Co., Publishers. 

1887. 



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COPYRIGHT, 1887, BY PERSrS F. CHASE. 



'1 ') 



Ff^EK^eE. 



Most of the following articles appeared in the 
columns of the Lancaster Gazette^ with the excep- 
tion of some of the sketches which were published 
in the Portland Transcript. 

It is hoped they will prove acceptable in the 
more pretentious form of a book, to the residents 
of the town; and perhaps those whose former home 
was in this locality, but who have wandered far 
away from this pleasant valley among the moun- 
tains, will recall the scenes of other days in reading 
these sketches;, and the summer visitor who has 
found health and pleasure among our hills, may find 
in the drives I have attempted to describe, a mem- 
ory of happy hours. 

Persis F. Chase. 

Lancaster, N. H., 1887. 



eoNSENSS. 



"The Days of x\uld Lang Syne " . . . . 9 

Emmons STOCK^vELL 14 

The Drive to Stockwell Farm 20 

Major Jonas Wilder 23 

The Drive to Jepferson 27 

The Building of the First Church ... 31 

The Drive to Northumberland 37 

ZiBA Lines 40 

The Drive to South Lancaster 43 

Richard Everett 48 

The Drive to Stebbin's Hili 52 

Phebe Spaulding 55 

The Drive around Mt. Prospect .... 64 

Our "Bunker Hill" 70 

The Drive to Egypt 72 

A True Story 76 

The Soliloquy of the Old Academy . . 82 



8 Contents. 

The DRn'E around the Gore 87 

The Farrar House Mystery 91 

The Drive to the Top of Mt. Prospect, . 97 

Great Grandma's Carpet . 100 

The Drive Over Page Hill 106 

The Old Cemetery 11 1 






I 



-THE DAYS OF AULD LANG SYNE." 
N 1825, the village of Lancaster contained 34 
^ houses, most of them cheaply built, andunpainted. 
There were two taverns. The stage tavern at the 
northendof the village, kept by William CargiU, 
standing where Jacob Benton's house now does. 
This building was moved a little farther north, and 
is now occupied as a tenement house. The other 
was the American House kept by Samuel White. 
This building was partly destroyed by fire, and has 
lately been taken down. 

There was only one church in the village, a large, 
unfinished building, standing on sand hill, about 
where the meeting-house common is now. The 
hill at that time was very steep. A number of 
wooden steps led up to the meeting-house. I do 
not think our village forefathers were very wise m 
choosing such an elevated position, for on a sum- 
mer's day the view from the door must have been 



lo The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

so beautiful that I am sure some \\ere tempted 
" to be doorkeepers in the house of the Lord" in- 
stead of going inside. Parson Wilhird preached 
in the meeting-house for many years at a sahiry of 
$150 a year. 

This building was erected in 1791, when there 
were only 26 voters in town. In 1S46 the old 
meeting-house was moved down the hill, to the 
spot where it now^ stands, and has since been known 
as the town hall. 

There was a Methodist society who held services 
in the court house, which stood where Kimball 
Fletcher's house now does. The room was 
warmed by a potash kettle inverted on a brick 
arch. 

Some prominent lawyers attended court here 
about the time I am writing of ,— Daniel Webster, 
Levi Woodbury, Ichabod Bartlett, Joseph Bell, 
among the number. 

Gen. John Wilson was clerk of the Common 
Pleas Court, of which Arthur Livermore was chief 
justice. Adino N. Brackett was clerk of the Supe- 
rior Court, William M. Richardson, chief justice. 
Major John W. Weeks was sheriff. 

The jail stood where the present one does. It 
^vas built of heavy hewed timbers of elm. It 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. i i 

was used for 53 years, being burnt in 1858. 

A little red gun house stood where the Unitarian 
church now does, where a brass cannon was kept, 
used by the artillery company. The postoffice was 
kept in the south-west room in the Fletcher house. 
Samuel A. Pearson, who then occupied the house, 
was postmaster. The mail south went out twice a 
week, carried in a two- horse wagon, and was three 
days in reaching Boston, stopping at Haverhill the 
first, and Concord the second night. The mail was 
carried to Colebrook once a week, to Bethel once a 
^veek on the way to Portland, by a man on horse- 
back. 

The physicians were Benjamin Hunking, Elipha- 
let Lyman and Jacob Stickney, who went their 
rounds on horseback, with the saddlebag containing 
their medicine swung across the horse's back. 

There were four stores. One kept by Perkins, 
Eastman & Co., a building that was situated where 
Irving Drew's house is now. Another kept by 
Benjamin Boardman, in what is now known as the 
Rix house. The other two were at the south end 
of the village, and kept by Samuel White and 
Reuben Stephenson. 

The stock of goods kept was very small, the 
sale of liquors making an important part of the 



12 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

trade. There was no law to prevent or regulate 
the selling of liquor. New England rum was con- 
sidered essential during haying and harvesting. Ci- 
der was made in large quantities and used freely in 
all farmer's families. Ready-made clothing was 
unknown, as well as the modern machine-made hos- 
iery for underwear. The wool and flax which ev- 
erv farmer raised, was spun and woven into cloth 
by the busy housewife and her daughters. A tail- 
oress went from house to house making this cloth into 
garments for the men and boys. 

Women, for ordinary wear, used home-made cloth, 
spun and woven by themselves. Flannel for winter 
and linen fabrics for summer. Dresses were made 
very plain, six to seven yards of cloth, three-fourths 
wide, was considered a large pattern. 

Every fall the shoemaker w^ent with his bench 
and tools to each house, when a corner of the 
kitchen was given up to him until the family were 
all shod. The shoemakers were Samuel Humux, 
an old Englishman from London, Heber Blanchard 
and Josiah Smith. 

There was no wiieelwright or competent painter 
in the place. Judge Lovejoy and Richard Eastman 
were house carpenters. Ephraim Cross manufact- 
ured hats in a small wav. Allen Smith was saddler 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 13 

and harness maker. Warren Porter had a black- 
smith shop opposite his house which is now occupied 
by his son. 

There was a grist mill and saw mill at the Wesson 
place, the miller, Squire Darby. Anothergrist mill 
stood where the present one does, Mr. Greenleaf, 
an old, white-headed revolutionary veteran, being 
miller. 

There was a clothing; mill and cardinor works 
where the Freeman mill is now. 

The wages of laboring men was fifty cents a 
day and board, house carpenters and most mechan- 
ics commanded one dollar a day and board. The 
tailoress and dressmaker considered twenty-five cents 
a day ample remuneration for their work. Seventy- 
five cents a week was all the most competent house- 
maid received. 

Only a few remain to tell us of the old days. 
Nearly all have gone " the way of all the world." 

Fifty years have brought great changes, not onlv 
to this village, but to all New England. The rail- 
road, telegraph and telephone, and innumerable in- 
ventions to facilitate labor, have been invented with- 
in that time. 

Progression is seen on every hand — the old mak- 
ing way for the new — which is as it should be. 



f4 ^hc Lancaster Sketch Book. 

" Let the great world spin forever clown the ring- 
ing grooves of change." 



EMMONS STOCKWELL. 

Emmons Stockwell, the suhject of this sketch, 
was born in Petersham, Mass. As he was bereft of 
his parents at an early age, he was bound out to 
service during his minority. In order to encourage 
enlistments, a regulation was made that indentured 
apprentices should be entitled to their freedom if 
they would enlist in the public service. Stockwell, 
although very young, took advantage of this pro- 
vision which gave him his liberty. He was in one 
of the expeditions w^hich went up for the Invasion 
of Canada during the French war. On returning 
from this expedition he, w^ith some others, came 
down the Connecticut River, and for the first time 
beheld this magnificent valley. K few years later, 
remembering the great natural attractions, he de- 
cided to return and make his home here. 

His glowing account of the Connecticut valley 
interested others, and in the spring of 1764, he 
started with Captain David Page, David Page, Jr., 



a IK 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 15 

I a few others from Petersham, to seek their 
fortunes in Northern New Hampshire. The whole 
country was then a dense wilderness; not a high- 
way had been constructed in or to our town. 

The early settlers found their way by marked 
trees through the woods. They drove before them 
some twenty head of cattle, with bags of salt, pro- 
visions and farming tools fastened to their horns. 
They erected their first camp on what is now known 
as Holton meadow, and went immediately at work 
to clear some land. In a short time they had twelve 
acres planted with corn. It grew so rapidly that by 
the 25th of August it was twelve feet high, and in 
full milk, but this fair prospect of a good crop of 
corn was entirely destroyed by a hard frost that 
came on the 26th; but perseverance was the motto 
of our forefathers. They managed to keep their 
cattle through the winter by cutting the grass on 
the open land on Beaver Brook, and were ready to 
renew the struggles of another year. 

The nearest mill was a No. 4, in the town of 
Charlestown; but the settlers did not depend upon 
food transported from there for their daily use. 
Emmons Stockwell made a huge mortar which held 
two bushels. Into this, corn, beans, and rye 
were put, and pounded with a great wooden 



1 6 'Jlic Lancaster Sketch Book. 

pestle. Cooked potatoes and vegetables were mixed 
with the contents of the mortar and the whole \\ as 
baked together. This composition was called 
" thump," and was considered a delicious dish, so I 
am told. 

The first white woman that came to Lancaster 
was Ruth Page. Her father. Governor Page, so 
called by way of distinction merely, never resided in 
Lancaster, but was a sort of director of the set- 
tlement, making frequent journeys to visit the new 
colony, and by his counsel rendered them great aid 
in the management of their affairs. Captain David 
Page and son, who were among the first who came 
here, were his brother and nephew. 

In August, 1764, Governor Page started from 
Petersham on horseback, accompanied by Ruth, 
who was going to Lancaster to cook the food and 
do the work for the little colony, then more than 
forty miles from their nearest neighbors. 

On the 35th of August, the night of the great 
frost. Governor Page and his daughter slept in the 
woods in Orford. They arrived in Lancaster the 
last of the month to find the little colony somewhat 
disheartened by the great calainity that had befallen 
them, but were no doubt much cheered to know a 
woman had come to make their homes more com- 
fortable. 



71ie jLancdster Sketch Book. 17 

Ruth must have had a rather nice time, notwith- 
standing the rough Hfe. There were no other 
girls to share the attention of the young men, and 
when Emmons began to pay attention to 
her, as he soon did, she had no one to be jealous 
of. 

The next year after Ruth's arrival in Lancaster, 
she was married to Emmons Stockwell, and began 
housekeeping on the old Stockwell place. A part 
of the old house is now standing. She was, at the 
time of her marriage, eighteen j^ears old, and he 
was twenty-three. Mrs. Stockwell was a w^oman 
of great determination of character. She had won- 
derful general capacity; she could do anything that 
was necessary, and did everything well. It is said 
that in the days of the Revolution she was the sal- 
vation of the colony. The hardships and dangers 
which surrounded them, the capture of the settlers 
by the Indians, and gloomy prospects of the country, 
somewhat weakened the resolutions of the settlers. 
They met at Mr. Stockwell's house to discuss the 
abandonment of the town. Mrs. Stockwell declared 
that she would not go away ; that she knew no 
such thing as failure. Others were influenced by 
the decision of the Stockwells, and the settlement 
was saved. 



iS 7 he Lancaster Sketch Book. 

Mr. Stockwell had a vigorous mind, a great deal 
of good common sense, and possessed prodigoiis 
strength. He could neither read nor write, until 
taught by his wife. For many years there was no 
school or school house. Mrs. Stockwell, who was 
a very good scholar for those early days, taught the 
children of the settlement in her own house. The 
next year after Mrs. Stockwell's marriage, Edward 
Bucknam, one of the young settlers, married a sis- 
ter of Mrs. Stockwell, who had probably come to 
make her sister a visit. They settled at the mouth 
of Beaver Brook, a stream that runs through Mar- 
tin meadows. A hunter who caught a large num- 
ber of beavers, which abounded in this stream, gave 
his name to the meadows. The Bucknams had six 
children, from whom have descended the Moores, 
Mclntires, Howes and Bucknams. Their oldest 
daughter, Eunice, was the first child born in the 
settlement. It was a long time before any traveled 
public way was constructed. Canoes were the only 
carriages, and they were made by themselves from 
the trunks of great trees. The women could row 
these canoes up and down the river with great skill ; 
and could also handle the rifle and fishing pole with 
expertness. As the rivers and streams were full 
of fish, and the forest of moose and other game, the 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 19 

tables of our ancestors must have been supplied with 
something besides " thump." 

Mr. and Mrs. Stockwell lived together more than 
fifty-five years, and had fifteen children, seven sons 
and eight daughters, all of whom grew to maturity. 
Before Mrs. StockwelPs death she could number 
one hundred and ninety living descendants. She 
died at the age of eighty-two; her husband at sev- 
enty-eight. David Stockwell, their oldest child, 
was the first son of Lancaster. 

Edward Bucknam, whom I have mentioned be- 
fore, was a very useful man to the new colony. He 
was a good surveyor, and could " draw teeth " and 
" let blood," and perform the marriage service. He 
laid out a large portion of the town and many of 
the highways. 

The first bridge erected in town w^as the old 
" Stockwell bridge," across Israel's River. The 
right to cross it first was put up at auction, and bid 
off by Emmons Stockwell, for five gallons of brandy 
which cost him forty-two shillings a gallon. 

The prosperity and success of our town is, no 
doubt, owing in a great measure to the fact that its 
foundations were laid by such men as Stockwell and 
Bucknam, and honor and gratitude should be given 
to the memory of Ruth Stockwell, who came 



30 'Jlic Lancaster Sketch Book. 

through the wilderness to aid the new settlers, and 
who, by perseverance and courage, overcame all 
obstacles and lived to see the " wilderness blossom 
like the rose." 



THE DRIVE TO STOCKWELL FARM. 

In going to the Stock well farm and through 
the pine woods to the Northumberland road, we 
drive to the north end of the village, and take the 
road to the right, which is bordered on either side 
with tidy, home-like looking houses, the yards in 
front bright with flowers, and far away to the right 
and left are charming mountain views. After cross- 
ing the rail-road track, we turn to the left, which 
takes us directly to the Stock well farm, the high- 
way ending there. We pass on the right the 
Abbott place, and what was formerly known as the 
Barton G. Towne farm. These farms were origi- 
nally settled by the Pages. 

Adjoining this is the Stockwell farm, which ex- 
tends to the bank of the Connecticut river. The 
first land cleared in Lancaster was twelve acres of 
this farm near the river, by Emmons Stockwell, in 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



21 



in- 



April, 1764, and planted with corn. The broad 
tervale that stretches away in undulating swells to 
the river, has been known for a hundred and twenty 
years as the « Stockwell Farm," and occupied snice 
the death of Emmons Stockwell, by his descend- 
ants. ^ 

Driving on, we pass a beautiful grove o. elms, 
and just below stands the Stockwell farm ^house. 
The low, moss covered ell connected with it is the 
first frame building erected in Lancaster, and was 
the home for many years of Ruth Stockwell, the 
first white w^oman that came to this town. 

To the right of the buildings, which stand upon 
a slio-ht elevation, we look down upon a grand and 
extensive meadow view. The river at this point 
makes a sweeping curve toward Vermont, leaving 
an expanse of three hundred acres of green intervale 
on the New Hampshire side. A most charming 
background for this green valley is first formed by 
the Connecticut river and beyond that the hills of 
Vermont. Nearlv in front of us, rising in symet- 
rical beauty, are Mt. McClellan and Mt. Rogers, 
whose tree crowned sides descend into undulating 
farms. Driving-down the bank, we go on through 
the meadow, pas'sing fields of nodding rye and oats 
to the river, whose banks are gracefully fringed 



2 2 Hie Lancaster Sketch Book. 

with trees. Turning again, we drive up the bank, 
passing through some bi^rs on the left, and drive 
across a level field. We are now on the old road to 
Northumberland, but long since it ceased to be a 
highway. On our right w^e pass the agricultural 
fair grounds, beyond is the Pilot range, flecked with 
shadows, and still farther on rise the familiar out- 
lines of the White Mountains. We soon enter the 
woods. Is it not delightful? Take long breaths 
of the fragrant, spicy air, for " our pines are trees of 
healing." 

Listen to the sighing breath of the trees. Henry 
Ward Beecher says, " the first pines must have 
grown on the sea shore, and learned their first accents 
from the surf and the waves; and all their posterity 
have inherited the sound, and borne it inland to the 
mountains." 

The friendl}^ boughs seem to nod welcome to us. 
On either side is a wild tangle of ferns, dog wood 
and elder blooms, while our carriage wheels roll 
over a carpet of pine needles. All too soon we 
emerge into the sunshine, and turning to the 
right find ourselves in the highway, homeward 
bound. 

The road we ai-e now on was formerly the stage 
route to Groveton. We drive into the village by 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 23 

Summer St., getting- a fine view of Mt. Prospect; 
the road winding in a zig-zag course up its side, is 
distinctly seen from this point. We soon finish our 
drive, but the memory of broad meadows, moun- 
tain peaks and lovely pine w^oods, will remain with 
us. 

Surely the variety and beauty of the drives in 
this vicinity cannot be surpassed; whichever way 
one goes " they cannot err in this delightful re- 
gion." 



MAJOR JONAS WILDER. 

The first framed dwelling house erected in Lan- 
caster was the large, square, flat-roofed building, that 
stands at the north end of the village, known as the 
" Holton house." 

This house was considered at the time it was built 
a very elegant residence ; the finest in the county. 
It was built by Major Jonas Wilder, who w^as born 
in Lyme, Conn., on the 22d of February, 1732, 
When quite young he went to Templeton, Mass. 
where he resided man}^ years. In the course of 
time, reports came to Major Wilder of the rich land 



24 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

that had been discovered in the valley of the Con- 
necticut in Upper Coos. He determined to go and 
explore the region, which he did. On reaching 
Lancaster, he was delighted with the natural loveli- 
ness of this valley. In imagination he saw the broad 
meadows, which at that time were covered with 
trees, cleared and planted with corn, the river gleam- 
ing like a band of silver through the fresh verdure, 
while the encircling chain of mountains, seemed a 
fitting frame for so fair a picture. 

Major Wilder decided to go no farther, but bought 
a mile square of land extending from the " Holton 
house " to Israel's river. 

He then returned to Templeton, to make arrange- 
ments to remove to Lancaster, and take possession of 
his new estate. 

In Feb., 1780, he started from Templeton with 
his wife and ten children, and a train consisting o£ 
two family sleighs, four lumber sleighs and a num- 
ber of sleds for stores. He also brought along 
carpenters, masons and glaziers, and everything for 
building purposes. 

I do not know how long they w^ere in reaching 
Lancaster, but probably some weeks. A small 
house was built for a temporary home, near the 
river bank, — remains of this building can still be 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 25 

seen on the Holton meadow — and some land cleared 
and planted with corn. On the 19th of May, 1780, 
memorable as the " dark day," they commenced 
digging the cellar for the great house, but by elev- 
en o'clock it became so dark that the men were 
obliged to discontinue the work. 

This strange and as yet unexplained phenomenon 
of nature, extended throughout New England, 
and created great disturbance in the minds of the 
people, and caused much commotion among the ani- 
mal creation. The fowls went to roost, the birds 
suddenly stopped their blithesome singing and dis- 
appeared, the cattle returned to their stalls, lowing 
pitifully. Candles were lighted in the houses, 
and everything bore the aspect of the darkest 
night. 

Many were convinced that the end of the 
world had come, and betook themselves to devo- 
tions. 

All worldly things have long since come to an 
end for those who witnessed the " dark day," but 
the sun has shone on with undiminished .splendor 
through the cycles of the years. 

The frame of this house was raised on the 36th 
of July, 1780. I have not been able to ascertain 
the exact date of the completion of the building. 



26 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

As there was no church built until the year 1794, 
religious services were held at this house, also the 
town meetings. In 1780, Major Wilder was chos- 
en on a committee to select a public burying ground, 
he presented the mound known as the "old burying 
ground," to the town to be used for that purpose. 

The first grist and saw mill in town were 
built by Major Wilder. He also assisted in laying 
out roads. He cleared a large tract of meadow land, 
where he raised five hundred bushels of corn. I 
have been told that this land was so rich, that for 
years no dressing was necessary, and what 
would now be considered of great value was thrown 
in the Connecticut. 

The county was thickly settled with Indians at 
the time Major Wilder came here. He was noted 
for his hospitable and humane care for them, 
and was rewarded by their faithful friendship. 

He was a valuable accession to the new settlement, 
and has left a record of which his descendants may 
well be proud. 

Of his numerous family, only one great-grand- 
child is living in town at the present time. 

He died in iSio of paralysis. A handsome granite 
monument recently constructed by a great grand- 
son, Mr. C. O. Baker of Portland, Me., marks the 
spot in the old cemetery where his ashes repose. 



*rhc Laiicaster Sketch Book. 27 



THE DRIVE TO JEFFERSON. 

The White Mountahi region is especially delight- 
ful, affording as it does from almost any point, 
charming and picturesque drives. 

The situation of Lancaster is particularly favored 
in this respect. In any direction you may go, 

" Aloft on sky and mountain wall. 
Are God's great pictures hung." 

Perhaps the drive to Jefferson, going over the 
"Jefferson Mills Road," and returning by the 
" north road," affords as grand a view of the 
White and Franconia ranges as can be had in this 
vicinity. 

We go up the sand hill and leave the village by 
Portland St. On our right is Holton hill, a splen- 
did situation for a summer hotel. The road is as- 
cending most of the w^ay for the next mile, which 
brings us to the top of " LeGro hill." Before we 
begin the descent, let us stop and enjoy the 
beautiful views. To the right of us, to the left 
of us, and in front of us, the horizon is terraced 
with mountains. The cultivated uplands in 
the foreground, are golden in the afternoon 
sunshine. On our left is the Pilot range. 



28 The La/icasfci' Sketch Book. ' 

]^roken by cones and peaks, while the soft clouds 
that fleck the sky, are painting the mountain sides 
with shadows of every imaginable form and shape. 
Nearly in front, the whole White Mountain range 
stands massive and majestic, the pride of New 
Hampshire, as it has stood for thousands of years. 
The gorges and ravines that channel the sides of the 
mountains can be plainly seen. To the right, the 
irregular peaks of the Franconia range are distinctly 
outlined against the blue sky. Who can behold 
this mighty chain of mountains at a fitting hour in 
the afternoon, and fail to be impressed with the 
view? The grandeur of it cannot be over esti- 
mated. 

We go on down the hill, past as good* farming 
land as there is in town, but the stone walls that 
surround some portion of it are a good evidence 
that the soil has been redeemed from rocks and 
stones, smoothed and enriched by indomitable indus- 
try. Driving briskly along, passing some pleasant 
and comfortable looking homes, we arrive at the 
" Mills," once a lively little business place, but now 
reminding one of the " deserted village." We take 
the road to the left, cross a ricketj bridge and are 
on the direct route to " Jefferson Hill," a pleasant 
shadv road, with some quite steep hills. We soon 



llic Lancaster SkctcJi Book. 2c) 

pass a beautiful maple grove. The underbrush has 
been removed, and seats arranged beneath the dense 
foliage of the trees, affording a delightful place for 
picnics and gatherings. By the look of some of 
the land we pass, the stories of sheep having- their 
noses sharpened to get at the grass between the 
stones, can be easily believed. 

Presently we come in sight of the village of 
" Jefferson Hill," and can distinguish the " Waum- 
bek " house quite distinctly. As we are not going 
to visit the village, we will take the turn to the left 
and are on the North road, and soon come to an en- 
tire change of scenery. The road is no longer hilly, 
and quite a broad sweep of level land borders it on 
either side, the hills that lie beyond are thickly cov- 
ered with trees. In the Autumn this is an especial- 
ly delightful drive, then these hillsides are one mass 
of gorgeous coloring. 

A little further on, a stream of water comes rush- 
ing down the hillside, through a green pasture, 
where a flock of geese are giving lessons to their 
young in aquatic sports, but at our approach stretch 
their necks and hiss, evidently taking us for ene- 
mies. Some humane persons have placed a wooden 
trough at the roadside, and into this the water comes 
in a sparkling stream, into which our horse is anx- 



30 llie Lancaster Sketch Book. 

ious to plunge his nose. How he seems to enjoy it, 
drinking so heartily. Then he lifts his head and 
takes a look down the road, to see who is com- 
ing. Some work horses turned loose in an adjacent 
field, affecting gayety in their old age, attract his at- 
tention, but we remind him he has other business 
to attend to. Another mile brings us to a point 
where the road diverges to the right and left. The 
one to the right leading to Gore and Groveton, 
the left is our way home, so we turn that way. 

Bray Hill, on the edge of Whitefield, presently 
comes into view, and although not much of an ele- 
vation, is so situated that both the White and 
Franconia ranges can be seen at good advantage 
from the summit. 

We are now approaching the part of the town 
known as " out east," where some of the most de- 
sirable farms in Lancaster are situated. The houses 
are comfortable, and some quite handsome, wkh 
neat and tastefully kept yards and commodious 
barns, which indicate that prosperity has attended 
the efforts of the laborer. 

The " great brook " crosses and winds itself 
through the green fields on its way to Israel's river. 
The sun is just sinking behind the Vermont hills, 
tinging with a rosy light the Pilot Range and Per- 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 31 

cy Peaks. How beautiful it is! but already the 
shadows are creeping down the mountain sides, re- 
minding us that we must hasten home, and present- 
ly we find ourselves at our own door, bringing with 
us pictures of mountains, hills, forest and field, that 
will live in our memorv forever. 



THE BUILDING OF THE FIRST CHURCH 
IN LANCASTER. 

It was a number of years after the first settlers 
had found their way to this pleasant valley, and had, 
by such hardships as only the pioneers in a new 
country can experience, made for themselves homes 
by the fertile banks of the Connecticut, and on the 
ruo-o-ed hill-sides, before they could raise the means 
to build a church. 

Religious services had been held in private 
houses, and after Major Wilder's handsome man- 
sion was completed, it answered well for that pur- 
pose. In the year 1791, the question of building a 
" meeting-house," was considered at the town 
meeting. A committee of six was appointed to 
buy six acres on the plain above the sand hill, and 



32 llie Lancaster Sketch Book. 

inspect the clearing of the same, " for a meeting-- 
house plot." 

Later, a committee was chosen " to propose a plan 
for the meeting-house." After due consideration 
the following was recommended: "That the pews 
be sold at public auction. That each person give 
his note to the committee, who shall be authorized 
to receive the pay and appropriate the same. That 
each person be subjected to the following method 
of payment: — That the whole sum be divided into 
four parts, to be paid the four next succeeding years. 
That each person pay six shillings and eight pence 
on the pound the first year, one half in June, the 
other ill November, the rest to be divided into three 
equal parts, and paid in November of each year. 
That four shillings on the pound, be paid in cash, 
or salts of lye, and the rest in wheat at four shill- 
ings per bushel, or beef at seventeen shillings and 
six pence per hundred weight, with this restriction, 
that the committee shall receive each man's equal 
proportion of timber, boards, clapboards and shin- 
gles, if good and merchantable. That each person 
who buys a pew, shall procure sufficient bonds for 
payment, and his obligation shall be lodged in the 
hands of the chairman of the committee, which 
shall be taken up or endorsed by a receipt from the 
committee." 



The Lancaste)' Sketch Book. 33 

These conditions were accepted by the people, 
and the following men were chosen " to build the 
meeting-house:" Col. Jonas Wilder, Capt. John 
Weeks, Lieut. Emmons Stockwell, Lieut. Joseph 
Brackett, Lieut. Dennis Stanley and Capt. David 
Page. 

It was nearly four years before the church was 
finished. From the " old Town Hall building," 
which is the old " meeting-house," one would not 
suppose it to have been a very imposing edifice, 
but such it is said to have been. Certainly it was 
a prominent feature in the landscape, standing on 
the brow of the hill, which at that time was very 
steep, like some grim sentinel keeping watch of the 
little hamlet that clustered in the valley below. It 
was built with a steeple at one end, two porches, 
and a broad entrance on the side. There was a 
gallery, a high pulpit, with a sounding-board sus- 
pended above. The pews were square, and the 
seats arranged so they could be raised up when the 
congregation stood up for prayers, making more 
room. When the minister said Amen, the clapping 
of the falling seats made a great clatter. A long 
flight of steps led up to the entrance for the accom- 
dation of those who went on foot, and horse-blocks 
were provided for the mounting and dismounting of 



34 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

those who came on horse- back. 

There was no provision made at all for warming 
the church. Some of the women carried foot stoves, 
an arrangement of sheet iron in a wooden frame in 
which coals could be put. 

In 1794, the question of settling a minister was 
considered at the town meeting, and a committee of 
nine persons was selected to " draw proposals for 
the settlement and salary of the Rev. Joseph 
WiUard." 

At the next town meeting the following report 
was made: " To gfve Rev. Joseph Willard fifty 
pounds a year for the next succeeding three years. 
This was to increase as the inventory of the town 
increased, till it reached eighty pounds. To be paid 
on the first day of March of each year. One third 
part paid in cash, the other two thirds in produce. 
On condition that we can get help from the neigh- 
boring towns as we now expect." 

It was ascertained that the town of Northumber- 
land would pay ten pounds toward the salary of 
Mr. Willard, on condition that he would preach a 
proportion of the time at that place. At the same 
town meeting that the arrangement in regard to 
hiring the minister was made, it was voted " to raise 
twentv-six dollars to be laid out in smoothing the 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 35 

meeting-house plot." It was voted to pay three 
shillings and six pence per day, "if they found their 
board and tools." 

On the iSth of September, 1794, Rev. Joseph 
Willard was installed as pastor over a church of 
twenty-four persons, and continued to occupy this 
position for twenty-eight years. 

Those who remember this gentleman, speak of 
him in the highest terms of respect. His religious 
teachings were full of charity and love, and left an 
abiding influence for good. 

I am told that he was very stately and dignified, 
with something of a military air which he had ac- 
quired in the army, and a thorough gentleman of 
the old school. He continued during his life to ad- 
here to the fashion of knee-breeches, shoes with sil- 
ver buckles, and carried a cane. 

" He was a man to all the country dear 

And passing rich with fifty pounds a year. 

Remote from towns he ran his godly race. 

Nor e're had changed, nor wished to change his place; 

But in his duty prompt at every call, 

He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all. 

He tried each art, reproved each dull delay. 

Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way." 

The following are the names of the ministers that 
have been settled by the Congregational Society 



36 The Lancaster Sketch Book, 

since its commencement, as far as I have been able 
to ascertain : 

Joseph Willard, Andrew Govan, 

Luke Spofford, Buxton, 

Clark Perry, David Perry, 

Stephen A. Barnard, Isaac Weston, 

E. B. Chamberlain, Prescott Fay, 

Henry V. Emmons, C. E. Harrington, 

C. E. Sumner, S. A. Burnaby. 
Jason R. Wheelock, 

The names of the deacons vv'ere: 

Jonas Baker, vSamuel Phelps, 

Joseph Wilder, Reuben W. Freeman, 

Elias Chapman, Porter Freeman, 

William Farrar, Edward C. vSpaulding, 

Seth Adams, Azro Burton. 
W^illiam Freeman, 

In 1839, ^^^^ church that is now occupied by the 
Congregational Society was built. The good and 
true men who founded this church among the 
wilds of New Hampshire, have all passed on to 
" another country," but the church and society have 
continued to increase in power and numbers, as the 
years have passed, and many 

" Seek bv the path which their fore-fathers trod 

Througli the land of their sojourn — t!ie kingdom of God." 



The Lancaster Sketch Book, 



THE DRIVE TO NORTHUMBERLAND, 
RETURNING ON THE VERMONT SIDE OF THE CON- 
NECTICUT RIYER. 

Some pleasant afternoon in June, when grass and 
trees are wearing their first freshness of summer, 
what can be more enjoyable than a drive to North- 
umberland Falls, returning by way of the Vermont 
side of the Connecticut river? 

We drive to the North end of ISIain street, and 
take the road to the right. Passing the jail, we 
soon see on our left Baker Pond, once a famous 
place for pickerel. A little further on, a curve in 
the road affords us a charming meadow view. 
Some of these acres of broad intervale that roll 
away in waves of " living green " to the banks of 
the Connecticut, belong to the Stockwell farm. We 
go on past the Fair ground and " the old Bellows 
place," and soon enter the cool and fragrant pine 
woods, where only a glimpse of the blue sky is 
seen above the rustling tree tops. These woods 
that seem so delightful on a summer afternoon, 
was the place where once a robbery was attempted. 
Mr. Hartwell, a gentleman who formerly resided in 
Lancaster, owned a very fine horse remarkable for 



38 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

speed. One very dark night, he was driving down 
to L., when about half through the pine woods, a 
man sprang from the road-side, caught the horse by 
the bridle, and presenting a pistol, commanded him 
to stop. Mr. H. struck the horse a hard blow, he 
gave a tremendous jump, threw the man down and 
was off like an arrow, far beyond the reach of the 
robber, before he had regained his feet. 

A verv eccentric man by the name of ^iba Lines 
once had a home under these pine woods, where he 
lived many years a hermit's life. I am informed 
his seclusion from the world was caused by a disap- 
pointment in love. 

As we go on, we notice on our right, masses of 
granite rocks, flung up in vast ledges, their sides 
mossed over, and from the rifts and clefts, bushes 
and dwarfed hemlocks are growing. Now we pass 
on our left, acres of level meadow land. In some 
places the green turf has been turned over, and we 
conclude from the number of thieving crows, flying 
near, that corn has been planted there. 

In the distance, but seemingly directly in front of 
us, are to be seen the twin mountains, known as the 
" Percy Peaks," whose cone-like tops are conspicu- 
ous from almost every point of view. Now we are 
roachino" the little villag-e known as The Falls. 



app 



The Lancastei' Sketch Book. 39 

We hear the hum of the mi Us along the river side, 
and see great piles of newly sawed lumber, that per- 
fumes the air with a piney smell. 

Crossing the long covered bridge, we are in 
Guildhall, Vt., a small, but pleasantly located vil- 
lage. We drive through the principal street, noti- 
cing the comfortable and home-like looking houses. 
The two churches stand sociably side by side. An- 
other mile brings us to a turn in the road, where a 
charming view can be had. On our left we can see 
a long distance down the river 

" Not unknown to classic song, 

Which still in varying beauty rolls along." 

Not a ripple disturbs the surface of the water, that 
with mirror-like exactness reflects the trees, that so 
gracefully fringe its banks. On the right, the rolling 
hills that further on swell into rug-g-ed mountains. 
On we go with the river on our left all the way. 
In some places the trees are so large along the 
bank, that we get only a glimpse of the blue 
water. Birds are singing blithely, as they flit from 
tree to tree. The red squirrel runs along the fence. 
Graceful, feather-like ferns are growing in great 
clusters in the more shaded places. Now, we are 
coming to the Ames place. Where can a finer 
meadow view than this be seen ? The river takes a 



40 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

wide circuit toward New Hampshire, leaving a 
grand expanse of intervale, dotted thickly with the 
graceful meadow elm. Beyond the gleaming of 
the river, Pilot Range perfects the artistic finish of 
the picture. From this point until the toll bridge is 
reached, a fine combination of river and mountain 
Scenery is presented. Those who think 

" 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 
And robes the mountain in its azure hue," 

will enjoy the drive. Crossing the bridge, we are 
in the Granite State again, and as the 

" Evening shadows are displayed, 
Evening damps begin to fall," 

arrive at our home, delighted with our drive of 
twelve miles. 



ZIBA LINES. 

Doubtless there are many in town who remem- 
ber Ziba Lines, who had a small house situated near 
the place where the house now occupied by Captain 
Beattie is standing. 

Mr. Lines came to this town from Charlestown, 
N. H. He had been at work for a number of years 
for a wealthy man in that place, and brought quite 



7^he Lancaster Sketch Book. 41 

a sum of money here with him. When he first 
came to Lancaster he was fond of society, and used 
to go to places of amusement, and as he had consid- 
erable musical ability, was quite noted for singing- 
songs. 

Probably all would have gone on prosperously 
with Ziba, had he not fallen in love, which, alas! was 
not reciprocated; the lady would not listen to his 
suit, and he was unable to say, " Nay, if she loves 
me not, I care not for her," but brooded over 
his disappointment until he became a hermit and a 
miser. 

He bought a number of acres of land, in what is 
known as the pine woods, built a house which I 
have mentioned, where he lived isolated from every 
one. After a few years he became so eccentric that 
he was considered almost insane, but perfectly harm- 
less and quiet. 

At one time he invited a number of people to at- 
tend 'his wedding, requesting the minister to go to 
the home of the lady at a certain time, to perform 
the marriage ceremony. He then went to his lady 
love, whom he found milking, and told her what he 
had done. For a reply, she threw the milk, pail 
and all, at jDOor Ziba, and ran away. I don't know 
how the milk bath affected him, but probably it had 



42 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

a quieting affect, as after that he turned his attention 
more to money. He j^^ot all he had exchanofed into 
silver, and kept it in two brown earthen pots, that 
held about a gallon a piece, and these he usually kept 
buried in the ground. 

One Sunday the people in the church were sur- 
prised by seeing Mr. Lines walk up the aisle, with 
these pots, one under each arm. He deposited them 
on the table under the pulpit, and remained standing 
near until the service was over. When he was 
asked what he had brought the money to church for, 
he replied that he " had made an offering of it to the 
Lord," and when someone offered to take care of it, 
he decided to do so himself. He then carried the 
pots of money to Mr. Bellows, who lived in the 
house known as "the old Bellows house." A colored 
woman was living in the famil}' at that time. She 
got an empty trunk, and in this Mr. Lines deposited 
his treasures, taking the key away w^ith him. v^ome 
time after, the trunk was opened, and found to con- 
tain only stones. No one knew when he had taken 
the money away, but it was ascertained that he 
went on 2 night, carried it away, and buried it some- 
where in the pine woods, where it is supposed to re- 
main until this day. 

Mr. Lines had some trouble with a neighbor about 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 43 

a line fence. This man would build a stump fence 
that would require two yoke of oxen and two men 
all day to place in position. 

During the night, Mr. Lines would entirely 
remove it with the help of only one small yoke of 
steers. 

An immense chain, weighing two hundred pounds, 
was used by his neighbor in moving the stumps. 
One night this chain disappeared, but a track across 
a plowed field to the river bank, indicated it had 
been drawn across and thrown into the river. 
The river was dragged, but the chain was ncAxr 
found. 

A few years ago, Emmons Stockwell plowed 
this chain up, when he was breaking up some 
land. Mr. Lines had buried it as he did his 
money. 

As Mr. Lines became old, it was not considered 
safe for him to live alone. There was a guardian 
appointed for him, and he was removed to Page Hill, 
where he died a victim of unrequited love. 

THF DRIVE TO SOUTH LANCASTER. 

The drive to South Lancaster, returning by way 
of the Vermont side of the Connecticut river, affords 



44 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



some of the most beautiful meadow views in this vi- 
cinity. 

"The tasseled maize, full grain or clover, 

Far o'er the level meadow grows, 
And through it, like a wavward rover, 
The noble river gently flows." 

We go up Baker hill, and after passing several 
cottages, come to the two story white house, situa- 
ted on a hill at the left. This house is now^ occupied 
by W. H. Hanson, but was built by Parson Willard, 
and known for many years as the parsonage. A 
little further on, standing on a hill remote from any 
building, we notice the little brick powder house, 
formerly owned by the State, and the powder for 
the guns that used to be stored in the old arsenal, on 
the opposite side of the road, was kept there, but 
since the old militia system was abolished, the arse- 
nal has been made into a stable, and the powder 
house sold to R. P. Kent, Son & Co., who used it 
for storing powder. We drive along what used to 
be the old stage road to Littleton. Ah ! how well 
we remember those morning rides, long before day- 
light, in the lumbering old stage coach, with Jim 
Pool for a driver. Surely it is a good thing that 
the world moves, that the march of improvement 
has rendered that twenty mile drive to reach the 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 45 

cars, unnecessary. We pass neat, home-like looking 
farm houses. On the right are the broad meadows, 
and just beyond the silvery gleaming of the river, 
are the cultivated lands, farm houses and hills of 
Vermont, making up an ideal landscape view of in- 
tervale, river and mountain. 

Presently w^e come to the Brackett hill, and 
seeonourkft, the old brick house cosily situated 
at the foot of it, with broad, spreading butternut 
trees at one side. We pass the bridge over the 
brook, that winds in and out with many a curve, 
through the pasture on the left, and a little farther 
on, we come to the old flat-roofed house, shaded by 
elms,-formerly the home of Major John W. Weeks, 
one of the first settlers of Lancaster. Major Weeks 
won his military title at the battle of Chippewa, 
being promoted from Captain to the rank of Ma- 
jor f^'or gallant conduct at that time. The road is 
smooth and level, we drive briskly along, getting a 
glimpse of the " shining river" through the dense 
foliage of the trees, pass the little brick school-house, 
.and s'oon come to the " White farm." From the pe- 
culiar curve the river takes at this point, this farm 
has always been called the Catbow. 

Soon after the revolutionary war. Major ISIoses 
White, of Rutland, Mass., was rewarded for the 



46 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

honor and ability with which he had tilled the high 
position in the continental army, to which he had 
been called, by receiving from the government, 
through General Hazen, this tract of land where he 
fixed his residence, and passed the remainder of his 
life, leaving the farm to his descendants at his death,, 
by whom it was occupied for many years. On we 
go over this pleasant river road, passing farm houses, 
ana acres of meadow land on the right, pastures 
and cultivated fields on the left, with now and then 
patches of woodland, until we come in sight of a 
railway station, and a few other buildings at South 
Lancaster. 

Turning to the right, we cross the railroad track,, 
and the covered bridge that spans the Connecticut, 
and are in Vermont. The views along the home- 
ward drive are unsurpassed. From the brick house,, 
now known as the " Rowell place," formerly owned 
by Reuben Benton, to the " Stone farm," a distance 
of about one mile, the scenery is more picturesque 
than at any other point during the drive. Here, 
for a long distance the Connecticut is seen winding 
in o^raceful curves throug-h the broad intervales. 
The varied tints of green displayed in grass, grain 
and foliage, all bathed in the golden sunlight of a 
summer afternoon, make a picture that must be 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 47 

seen to be appreciated. On we go over the pleasant 
country road, sometimes through bits of woods, 
full of hemlock, pine, and spruce, that perfume the 
air with a spicy odor, then out into the sunshine, 
where we see the regal golden rod waving its plumy 
head among the raspberry and blackberry bushes at 
the roadside. In some places the purple aster is 
beginning to fringe the way, and the wild clematis 
to trail its graceful vines over the fences. A gold- 
en robin is perched on the swaying limb of a tree in 
front of us, singing a merry song, and the meadow 
lark skims over the green fields rejoicing as he 
flies. 

Now we are passing the " Clark farm," owned 
by Deacon Carlton, and presently the " old Hopkins 
place " comes into view, now the property of the 
Rhodes Brothers, two fine specimens of Connecti- 
cut river farms. A charming back ground for these 
broad meadows, is formed by the rich rolls of culti- 
vated land, on " Stebbins hill," and other hills that 
have no name. Flashes of sunlight turn acres of 
woods on Mt. Prospect and Mt. Pleasant into 
patches of shining satin. The White mountains. 
Pilot Range and Percy Peaks, that now seem al- 
most in front of us, are bathed in glorious sunset 
hues, of rose gold and purple; but we are approach- 



48 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

ing the old toll bridge, and are reminded that it is 
almost supper time, and as the old farmer wisely 
remarked, "folks can't live on scenery," we rapidly 
finish our delis^htful drive. 



RICHARD C. EVERETT. 

In November, 17S7, a little party of emigrants 
might have been seen slowly wending their way 
through the woods toward Upper Coos. 

There were only four persons, two men and one 
woman, and a little child, which the younger of the 
men, who was about eighteen, carried in his arms. 
The other man led a horse upon whose back was 
fastened a heavy load, and upon his own back was 
a pack. 

The names of these persons were Mr. and Mrs. 
Blake and child, the voung man was Richard C. 
Everett, who afterward became the first lawyer of 
Lancaster. As Richard had but little of his own to 
carry, the baby become his burden instead of its 
mother's. 

On the 19th of October of the same year, 
Richard had been discharged from service in the 
revolutionary war at Yorktown among many others 
whose services were no longer needed. 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



49 



Being an orphan and almost without friends, he 
had enHsted two years previous, when only sixteen 
3'ears of age. During the first year he saw much 
hardship and privation. The short allowance of 
food, poor clothing and hard work, soon changed 
the robust and health v boy so much, that even his 
mother, had she been alive, would hardly have 
known him. One dav he was sent to General 
Washington's headquarters on some errand. The 
youthful appearance and sad condition of the poor 
boy attracted the General's sympathy. He enquired 
who he was and why he was there. After hearing 
his story, he was so kind as to take him into his per- 
sonal service, where his duties were much lighter. 
After leaving the army he returned to Providence, 
his native place, and being entirely dependent upon 
his own exertions for a living, was looking i.bout for 
some employment, when a proposition was made 
him by IVIr. Blake, with whom he was acquainted, 
to go with him to Upper Coos, where it was report- 
ed that good land was cheap, and emigrants were 
wanted. 

This Richard decided to do, and the little partv 
started on their long tramp to seek their fortune in 
the wilds of Upper Coos. 

Wearv and foot-sore, this little band were over- 



^o TJic Lancaster Sketch Book. 

joyed when just at night-fall on the twelfth day of 
their long march, they saw from a slight eminence 
thev had reached, the smoke rising from some log 
houses in the valley beneath them, and knew 
thev had at last arrived at Lancaster, their destina- 
tion. 

They had been directed to go to Major Wilder, 
who promised to be a kind of father to the new set- 
tlers. He gave them a hospitable welcome, and as 
he had been wanting to get some men to draw salt 
from Portland, before many days, Mr. Blake and 
Richard had agreed to work for him during the 
winter. 

Before they could commence their labors, howev- 
er, a road had to be made through the Notch suffi- 
ciently wide for a sled to pass through. The road 
at that time being hardly more than a foot path. 
This was done by Mr. Blake and Richard, assisted 
by one other man. 

During the winter Richard saved all he could of 
his earnings, as he had made up his mind he would 
have an education. Perhaps Persis, daughter of 
Major Wilder, whom he afterward married, in- 
spired him to make this decision. In the spring he 
wxnt to Hanover, where he managed by hard work 
and economy to prepare himself for college, and he 



llie Lancaster Sketch Book. 



s- 



determined to take a collegiate course, although his 
resources were limited to good health and willing 
hands. But, after all these years of hardship, the 
w^ay was unexpectedly ojDcned to him. One day in 
looking over a Boston paper, he saw an advertise- 
ment wanting information of the heirs of Richard 
Everett, formerly of Providence. Richard knew 
it must mean his father. He immediately wrote to 
the address given, and in reply was informed that 
he must go to Providence and prove that he was 
the son of Richard Everett, in which case quite a 
sum of money was ready to be paid to him. 

This he did, having no difficulty in proving him- 
self the rightful heir. 

In surveying and laying out the city of Provi- 
dence, it had been found that several lots of land be- 
longed to Richard Everett. These had been sold 
to good advantage; so Richard found himself pos- 
sessed of sufficient means to finish his education, and 
have something left. 

After graduating, he studied law, and in 1793 re- 
turned to Lancaster, and began the practice of his 
profession. Pie was married to Persis Wilder, 
December 7, 1793, after an engagement of nine 
years. 

They had seven children, all daughters, none of 
wdiom are now livins;. 



52 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

Judge Everett built the house known as the 
" Cross place," where he resided until his death, 
which occurred on the 22nd of March, 1S15. 

He was successful as a lawyer, became judge of 
the Court of Common Pleas, and afterwards judge 
of the Supreme Court, which office he held for 
manv years. 



THE DRIVE TO STEBBINS HILL. 

The view from Stebbins Hill is one of the most 
charming in this \icinitv. 

Driving up Baker Hill, and along the river road 
for a mile and a half, we come to a turn on our 
left, which we will take. 

The road soon begins to be ascending, but 
smooth and hard. Presently we come to the 
" Emerson place," formerly owned by Captain John 
Weeks, who was the first to settle on this hill 
land. 

Perhaps one reason for choosing this high land, 
was owing to the freshets that every spring delayed 
the cultivation of the intervales until frequently as 
late as June, and perhaps the exceedingly lovely 
view from this hill was the attraction. 

On the right, a short distance above the " Emer- 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 53 

son place," is the old Mclntire farm, settled by John 
Mclntire, who came to this town in 1794, married 
for his first wife Sally Stockwell, daughter of Em- 
mons Stockwell, one of the first settlers of the town. 
Mr. Mclntire was quite a remarkable man. He 
could neither read nor write, but invented a method 
of computing interest, and " dod sir," was his fav- 
orite expression, he always was correct in his cal- 
culations. He accumulated quite a large property, 
w4iich he divided equally among his sixteen children 
before his death. 

On we go still up, about a mile above the ^Slcln- 
tire place the road turns to the left. On the right, 
just at the crown, but somewhat back, is the " Steb- 
bins place," formerly owned by Edward Spaulding, 
who was the son of Phineas and Phebe Spaulding, 
who settled in the town of Northumberland, in the 
year 1769. Mrs. Spaulding was a descendant of 
the famous Mrs. Dustin and was a woman of great 
courage and determination. Edward Spaulding was 
brought in his mother's arms from Haverhill to 
Northumberland, through the wilderness, alone, 
with only spotted trees for a guide. 

The road is getting pretty steep, but a few more 
rods brings to just the right point for the view. The 
scene is beautiful and picturesque, and one that will 
live in the memory forever. 



^/j. The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

The windings of the Connecticut can be traced 
many miles, through the broad, green, beautiful 
meadows, waving with grass, and grain and 
patches of glistening corn, reminding us that though 
among the beauties of nature, the hand of man has 
added something to its charms. 

From east to w^est a mighty chain of mountains 
swells gracefully along the horizon. The most dis- 
tant seem to touch the heavens and lose themselves 
amid the clouds. 

Below us, cosily situated in the green vallev, the 
houses of the village of L. gleam white in the af- 
ternoon sunshine. 

A little more than a hundred years have passed 
along the course of time, since how changed was the 
scene! 

The same river, hills and mountains were here, 
and will still stand unchanged, unchanging through 
ages yet to come. But yonder village, and the 
comfortable farm houses, surrounded by acres of 
cultivated land, wdiere were they ? 

Lancaster was a wilderness, and Indian hunters 
strode along its hills and valleys. The wild deer 
lapped the water of the river that flowed sparkling 
through the meadows beneath us. 

Where the village now stands, the smoke from a 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 55 

few log cabins of the first settlers curled above the 
trees of the forest. 

Who can reflect upon the changes that have al- 
ready been, without turning the mind toward the 
future? Slowly we drive along, reluctant to leave 
this beautiful prospect, but 

" The western waves of ebbing day," 
remind us that it is time we were on our way home. 
We go on, descending the hill on the opposite side 
from which we came, and soon turn into the 
Whitefield road, reaching the village by way of the 
Sand hill. We are sure that all who have seen this 
view from this hill at a fitting hour in the afternoon, 
and through a favoring air, will agree with the old 
o-entleman who remarked to some city boarders, " I 
tell 'em if they want to see ^(T^/nv/'n', Stebbins hill is 
the place." 



PREBE SPAULDING. 

A great deal has been written in a general way, 
of the hardships endured by the first settlers of New 
England. 

When we read of the Puritan Fathers landing on 
the " stern and rock-bound coast " of Massachusetts, 



56 llie Laiicaster Sketch Book. 

and their trials and privations, we are filled with 
wonder and admiration at the courage and determi- 
nation displayed by them, but occasionally there 
will come to us from the dim and distant past, tra- 
ditions of courage and fortitude borne by our ances- 
tors of a later day, that are equally as wonderful. 

The following narrative, which is true, illustrates 
this in a forcible manner, and gives us some idea of 
what the women of that early day endured. 

In the year 1769, a party of emigrants started 
from Londonderry, in the southern part of New 
Hampshire, for Upper Coos of the same state, the 
distance being about one hundred and fifty miles. 

Glowing accounts had come to them of the fer- 
tile lands on the banks of the Connecticut that could 
be had for almost nothing, and inspired by the hope 
of winning a home and perhaps a fortune in this 
unbroken wilderness, they decided, notwithstanding 
the great hardships they would have to endure, to 
go. 

Packing bedding and a few household utensils on 
the backs of horses, and each with as much as they 
could carry, thev started from Londonderry the first 
of :VL'iy. 

Among the number was a young man, Phineas 
Spaulding, his wife, Phebe, who vs^as a descendant 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 57- 

of the famous Mrs. Dustin, and one child about one 
year and a half old. 

They had not much to take with them, save stout 
hearts, and plenty of courage and hope. 

The one precious thing Phebe had, was a copper 
tea-kettle, that had been brought from England by 
her mother, who was dead. This kettle, which 
would hold about three quarts, was packed full of 
packages of tea, pepper, spices and garden seeds, 
and was altogether too valuable to be entrusted out 
of her hands; so she started with her baby boy, Ed- 
ward, in her arms, and carrying the tea-kettle, to 
walk a hundred and fifty miles. 

She was a small, pretty looking woman, with 
brown hair and hazel eyes, and possessed wonder- 
ful powder of endurance. She was graceful and ag- 
ile in her movements. I have been told that when 
she wished to mount a horse, she would put her 
hand on his shoulder and jump from the ground to 
his back. 

It was just at night-fall on the fifth day after this 
little party left Londonderry, that they approached 
the small settlement of Haverhill. The remainder 
of the way was through the wilderness, where their 
only guide would be marked trees. The emigrants 
were hospitably entertained by the people of Haver- 



^8 71ic Lancaster Sketch Book. 

hill, and were urged to remain a few days and rest, 
but they were anxious to get to their journey's end, 
and only stayed one night. 

In the hurry of getting started the next morning, 
Mrs. Spaulding put her baby on the floor, while she 
w^as arranging something, and he being left to him- 
self, crept to the hearth and pulled a kettle of hot 
water over, and before his mother could reach him, 
his feet were scalded. 

Of course this accident prevented Mrs. Spaulding 
from going on, and it was decided after a consulta- 
tion with others, for her to remain a few days. It 
would be necessary for some one to return to Hav- 
erhill for some meal, so Mr. Spaulding told his 
wife to wait patientl}', and he would come for her 
as soon as he could. Phebe saw her friends depart 
with much regret, and watched them until they 
were lost from sight in the wood. 

It proved that the baby was not very badly burned, 
and Mrs. Spaulding was sorr}' that she had not gone 
on with the others, but she waited as patiently as 
she could, until the time had passed when her hus- 
band should have returned for her. As the days 
went by, and he did not come, she resolved she 
would wait no longer, but go on alone. 

The people she was with, endeavored to persuade 



The Laiicastei' Sketch Book. 



59 



her to remain until her husband came for her, but 
from all accounts, Phebe had a will of her own, and 
would not consent to remain, but started with her 
baby, and carrying the tea-kettle and a good supply 
of food, for a walk of fifty miles, through a dense 
w^oods. Undaunted by fear of wild animals or In- 
dians, she marched bravely on, her only guide the 
spotted trees. Think of this young, but plucky 
little woman, starting with a helpless baby in her 
arms, and knowing she would have to remain over 
night in the woods, to walk through the wilderness 
alone. 

On she went, noticing with pleasure, the signs of 
spring on every side. The brown buds just bursting, 
and the tender green leaves peeping out. She 
thought of the garden she would have, planted with 
the seeds she had in her tea-kettle. Then she would 
beguile the weary way, with snatches of songs or 
strains from some old hymns she had heard her 
mother sing, until I think the birds must have hushed 
their songs to listen to this strange music. 

Just as the sun's declining rays gave warning that 
the day was almost gone, Phebe came to a pond, 
now called " Streeter's Pond," which she must ford; 
concluding to wait till morning before crossing, she 
began to look around for some place to spend the 



6o The Lancaster Sketch Book, 

night. Presently the twisted trunk of an old hem- 
lock caught her sight. It was crooked in such a 
way that it formed a kind of cradle. She fixed a 
bed out of some boughs and laid the baby, who was 
asleep, in this novel cradle. Then she dug a hole 
in the ground close by the tree, and put the tea-ket- 
tle in, covering it carefully, so the Indians, should 
they come, would not get it. 

She ate her supper, and laid down by her baby, 
not meaning to go to sleep. Long she lay gazing 
up through the branches of the trees, at the stars 
twinkling in the sky, and listened to the hoot of the 
owl, and screech of the catamount, but her walk of 
twenty-five miles, and carrying the baby, had tired 
her so she could not keep awake, and commending 
her baby and herself to him " whose eye never slum- 
bers or sleeps," she fell into a dreamless slumber. 

When she awoke the day was breaking, and the 
birds had already commenced their morning concert. 
She arose from her uncomfortable bed, feeling lame 
and unrefreshed, but thankful the night had been 
passed in safety. She ate her breakfast, resurrect- 
ed her tea-kettle, and was soon on her way. She 
was determined not to pass another night in the 
woods alone, and went on as far as she could, only 
stopping a little while to rest, and eat her dinner. 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 6i 

Just at dark, when she was beginning to think she 
would not be able to go on, as she could not see the 
marked trees, the path began to widen, and as she 
reached the top of a hill, she almost shouted for joy, 
for in a little valley at the foot of the hill, were a 
few log houses, and from the open door of one, she 
could see the cheerful gleams of firelight; how 
pleasant it looked to the chilled, exhausted woman. 
Pressing oh, she directed her steps to that house, 
and was kindly received by the inmates; from them 
she learned that she had reached Lancaster, but her 
destination was six miles farther on. Gladly she 
accepted their hospitality until morning, when she 
finished lier journey, arriving at Northumberland 
about noon, giving her husband, who was just mak- 
ing preparations to go for her, a great surprise. 
Phebe found her anxiety had been needless. ^Ir. 
Spaulding had delayed going back to Haverhill un- 
til he had put up a rude log house, so Phebe found 
a home awaiting her, and they were soon settled at 
housekeeping. Their furniture was of the rudest 
kind, all being home-made. But her tea-kettle sang 
just as cheerfullv on her humble hearth, as it had 
done in her childhood's home, and she would sit be- 
fore the fire, holding her baby, and think of the 
time when, instead of the woods that now encom- 



63 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

passed their house, fields of waving grass and corn 
would he seen, and their log house exchanged for a 
nice framed l)uilding. 

She had planted her garden, and already the seeds 
were springing up; hut there were times when it 
looked very dark to the poor emigrants. The In- 
dians were trouhlesome, food was not plenty, 
indeed their chief dependence was upon hunting 
and fishing. Some of the party were" anxious to 
return to Londonderry, and Mr. Spaulding would 
have been easily persuaded to have done so, had it 
not been for his wife. It is said that she was set- 
ting out some cabbage plants in her garden one af- 
ternoon, when some of tliose who wished to return 
came to talk the matter over; but Phebe put her 
hoe down decidedly, and told them '' all to go, every 
one; she never would." 

She felt sure it only required patience and perse- 
verance, to make that " wilderness blossom like the 
rose." 

It happened one time during that first year, that 
Mr. Spaulding had gone hunting, to be gone two 
or three days, leaving Phebe and the baby alone. 
As it began to be dark, she thought she would take 
her bah}' and gc to the nearest neighbor's, wiiich 
was about a mile, but decided she would not be so 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 63 

foolish, and going to the door to close and fasten it, 
six Indians confronted her. 

They had approached the house so noiselessly she 
had not heard them. Her heart sank within her as 
she saw them, but trying to speak as if she had no 
fear, she inquired what they wanted; they informed 
her; " they had come to her house to have a pow- 
wow." Probably surprise parties had not come in 
fashion then, and Phebe was rather embarrassed at 
the announcement, but knowing that she must not 
offend the Indians b}' refusing, bade them come in. 

They seated themselves around the fire, in^*lting 
Phebe to join them, and not daring to refuse, she sat 
down with them, holding her baby in her arms. 
The Indians had plenty of " fire w^ater," and com- 
menced drinking, passing the bottle to Phebe, would 
say, "brave white squaw no 'fraid drink fire water." 
She would make a pretence of accepting their offer 
and to appear as if she was not frightened. For 
hours the Indians kept up a perfect bedlam, until 
one by one they were overcome by the " fire wa- 
ter," and sank into a drunken stupor. Through 
the whole night Mrs. Spaulding sat there holding 
her child. 

In the morning the Indians aroused from their 
sleep and crept out of the house. Ever after that 



64 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

^Irs. Spaulding was considered a heroine bv them, 
and called the " brave white squaw," and thev ex- 
pressed their admiration of her behavior to them, 
'by bringing her presents of game, tish and corn. 
Mrs. Spaulding's dream was fultiUed; she saw the 
\\ ilderness disappear before the ax of the woodman, 
and thrift V farms and comfortable homes take its 
place. 

She li\ed to be about eighty, lea\ing many de- 
scendants to cherish her memory. The copper tea- 
kettle is in the possession of a great-great-grand - 
daugliter, who considers it one of her household 
treasures. 



THE DRIVE AROUND MT. PROSPECT. 

Of all short drives in this vicinity, the one around 
]SJt. Prospect affords the grandest mountain views. 

A\'e drive up the Sand Hill, and along the Jeffer- 
son road for a mile, passing on the right, Holton 
Hill, and on the left, getting a charming view of 
the Pilot range, and the "outcast" part of the 
town. We also notice, close to the roadside on the 
left, a number of acres of smooth green grass, slop- 
ing toward Israel's river, whose course through the 
narrow vallev can be traced bv the trees and bushes 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 65 

that fringe its banks; this land is quite a contrast to 
the rugged rocky pastures on either side of it, which 
are samples of vvhat this was, before the rocks and 
stones had been removed, and built into the sub- 
stantial wall that surrounds it. Just in front, we 
get a grand view of the White Mountains. 

Presently we arrive at a road leading to the right, 
which is our way. We now have Mt. Pleasant di- 
rectly in front, Mt. Prospect a little to the left of it. 
The'road is gradually ascending until we arrive at 
'the " Freeman place," on the top of the hill. From 
this point we get a most beautiful view of the cul- 
tivated land, extending from the base half way up 
the side of Mt. Prospect. A maple grove, enclosed 
by a stone wall, stands stately and graceful, among 
the patches of corn, yellow rye and half ripened 
oats, and above all the tree-crowned summit of the 
mountain, making a m.ost perfect landscape picture. 
A short distance beyond the " Freeman place," we 
turn to the left, and are on the direct road around 
Mt. Prospect. 

How delightfully shady and pleasant it is ! What 
a profusion of growth there is about us! Moisture 
and the right proportion of light and shade, give 
here the best conditions for the growth of the fern, 
which can be found in the woods on the right, grow 



66 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

ing in great quantities and variety. The rare spec- 
imen known as the maiden hair, is found here in 
abundance; this locaHty is quite noted as the only 
place in the vicinity of Lancaster where this fern 
can be found. 

As we go on, the trees on either side increase in 
size, until the over hanging branches almost meet. 
The birds seem to think the top of these swaying 
trees a splendid place to practice their songs; the 
" dim woods " ring with their blithesome singing, 
and the red scjuirrel runs about in a pert, nimble way, 
or sits up to nibble a choice bit he has found, with 
his tail held gracefully over his back. On the right, 
we notice among the trees, masses or ledges of rocks, 
piled in some places to a considerable height, cov- 
ered with beautiful green moss; in some places the 
rents and fissures contain soil, from which shrubs 
and even small trees are growing. Emerging from 
this lovely piece of woods, we come to a breadth of 
open country. On the left, beyond the undulating 
acres of the farm now owned by Mr. Johnson, but 
originally settled and occupied for many years by a 
man known as " Quaker Eastman," we can see the 
village of Jefferson, with Mt. Starr King, rising 
above it; a little to the right is Bray Hill, and tow- 
ering grandly overall, are the White and Franconia 
mountain ranges. 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 67 

We drive on, passing on the right a brook, that 
comes hurrying down the hillside, as if in haste to 
join the " brimming river." Now we pass on the 
left, the " old Lovejoy farm," long the home of 
Abial Lovejoy, father of John Lovejoy, a former 
resident of Lancaster. The place is now owned by 
Mr. iVlexander. 

On the opposite side a little farther along, we ar- 
rive at the Bucknam place. This farm was settled 
^by Edward Bucknam, and was his home during his 
life. Mrs. Sarah Bucknam, his widow, is still liv- 
ing in the old home, at the advanced age of ninety- 
seven, and is, I am informed, the oldest woman in 
town. She retains her memory in a remarkable 
manner, and can read, sew and knit, as well as many 
much younger women. This farm is now in the 
possession of Mr.^ Jacobs, a son-in-law of Mrs. 
Bucknam. The quantity and quality of the butter 
made on this farm, is quite celebrated. 

On the same side of the road a few rods beyond, 
we come to the old Week's place, which is situated 
on the slope, but near the base of Mt. Prospect, 
and is now known as " Prospect farm." This place 
was settled and house erected by James B. Weeks, 
father of Judges James W. and William D. W^eeks. 
In what used to be the kitchen, the original fire- 



68 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

place still remains; and in the front hall, there is a 
stair-case and railing, made by Judge James W. 
Weeks. 

In selecting this situation, on which to build his 
house, Mr. Weeks certainty displayed a taste for 
grand mountain scenery. There is not a spot in 
town, where the White Mountain and Franconia 
ranges can be seen so boldly outlined, as from this 
raised plateau in front of Prospect farm house. A 
broad sweep of rolling hills, pastures and cultivated 
fields, with stately groves of maple and dark pine, 
stretch away for miles in front of the house. Be- 
yond, on the left, we see Jefferson village with the 
Pilot range for a back-ground, nearly in front Bray 
Hill and Cherry Mountain, on the left the village 
of Bethlehem ^vith INlt. Agassiz just beyond it. 
Majestically rising above all, are the White and 
Franconia mountains, at just the right distance to 
display the confederate strength of the chain, and 
mellow the o-oro-es and ravines that channel their 
sides into beauty and grandeur. We need no tele- 
scope to enable us to see the road winding up Mt. 
Washington, and the house at the tojD is plainlj- dis- 
cernable. The long serrated summit of Mt. Lafay- 
ette is seen to better advantage from this point, than 
from any place we know of in this vicinity. Many 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 69 

years ago, there used to be a beaver meadow on 
the opposite side of the road from this house, but all 
traces of it have long since disappeared. 

Many improvements have been made at Prospect 
Farm the last few years by the present owner, Mr. 
George P. Row^ell. Stones and rocks removed 
from "the land and built into substantial walls/ Trees 
planted. A flower garden artistically laid out. A 
beautiful maple grove just back of the house cleared 
'Of underbrush, and with hammocks and seats, affords 
a charming retreat for a summer day. Commodi- 
ous barns and out-buildings have been erected, and 
short-horned cattle, Shropshire-down sheep, and 
Berkshire swine, are taking the place of the com- 
mon stock. 

Reluctantly we turn away from this grand view, 
and drive on. We are now on the opposite side of 
Mt. Prospect, the road winding along between Mt. 
Prospect and Pleasant. The view driving down 
this road to the village, it is doivn all the way, is 
very lovely, and quite different from the prospect 
we had going. We now see broad meadows 
extending for miles toward the north and west, 
the Connecticut winding in graceful curves through 
the green verdure; beyond the tree-crowned hills, 
rise the mountain ranges of Vermont, the hazy 



yo The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

summits mingling with the wonderful blue of the 
summer sky. 

The houses of the village clustering in the valley, 
the red roof of the Lancaster House easily distin- 
guished from the others. The tapering church 
spires pointing upward, and all illuminated with a 
golden glow, from the sun, slowly sinking behind 
the hills, make another beautiful picture to hang on 
the walls of our memory. 

We come into the village from the Whitefield 
road, and drive down the Sand Hill, rattle over the 
bridge, reaching ovu- home as 

'• All the sky is grand with clouds, 
And athwart the evening air 
Wheel the swallows home in crowds.'" 



OUR "BUNKER HILL." 

Probably there are man}* in our village, who are 
not familiar with the story which caused the hill on 
the left of Summer street to receive the appelation 
of " Bunker Hill." 

The facts in regard to the origin of the name are 
as follows: 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 71 

Many years ago there resided in our town a man 
of great muscular strength, who from his youth up 
had been the conqueror in feats of strength and 
w^resthng matches. 

The Fourth of July and muster days, were 
occasions on which he displayed his prowess, and 
won his laurels. 

One fall, when the annual muster was in progress 
' on Holton meadow, and people had come in large 
numbers to w^itness the military display, this man, 
whom I have mentioned, met his first rival. 

There appeared that day upon the scene, a man 
of splendid physique, young and agile. He had re- 
cently returned from a whaling voyage, and alto- 
gether was considered quite a hero. Very jealously 
this young athlete was watched as he displayed his 
gymnastic powers, by the man who was no longer 
young, but who until to-day had born the palm 
of victory alone; now he must admit he had a 
rival. 

It was suggested, that there should be a wrestling 
match between these two, but the older man decided 
that was not the place for a real trial of strength. 
Before the day had passed, it had been arranged in 
a confidential manner between these two, that they 
would meet the next mornins: at sunrise, on the hill 



72 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

I have mentioned, and settle which was the best 
man in a good square fight. 

It chanced that a boy overheard the making of 
this arrangement, and before sunrise next morning, 
many a stump, stone and tree, on the hill, concealed 
an expectant spectator. Punctually the men arrived 
on I he spot, and a hard contested battle was fought, 
resulting in the defeat of the veteran of so many 
fights and wrestling matches. 

This was too much for the boys, who burst into a 
loud hurrah, as they scampered down the hill to tell 
the great news that Old Blank had been whipped at 
last. 

Ever since that morning the scene of this contest 
has been called " Bunker Hill." 



THE DRIVE TO EGYPT. 

Of the two beautiful meadow drives in this vicin- 
ity, perhaps the one to " Egypt " through the Con- 
necticut river meadows, to the " William Weeks 
place," affords more variety of scenery than the one 
to the " Stockwell meadows:" however, both are 
most charming drives. In going to " Egypt," we 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 73 

leave the village by the Baker Hill, taking the sec- 
ond turn to the right, we soon pass, on the left, the 
old arsenal ; being no longer required for the store- 
house of war-like equipments, it has become the 
peaceful abode of Mr. Streeter's horse. 

Directly in front is a beautiful view of rolling 
meadows, and further on the green hills of Ver- 
mont. On the right the " twin peaks " stand like 
sentinels guarding Cape Horn. 

We soon arrive at a point where the road diverg- 
es to the right and left. The left is our way. . Just 
at the turn we pass on the right, on a sunny hill- 
side, the Catholic cemetery. We are now on the 
road to " Egypt." This title arising, so I am in- 
formed, by the failure, many years ago, of the corn 
crop in this town, save that which was planted in 
this vicinity, which grew in a remarkable way and 
yielded abundantly. 

As the people were obliged to come here for corn, 
they were probably reminded of the story in the 
Old Testament of Joseph's brethren who were sent 
to Egypt to buy corn. In this way the name was 
acquired, and ever since, the drive in this direction 
has been called "going to Egypt." The road is level 
and smooth, bordered on each side by green fields 
radiant with buttercups and elder flowers. 



74 l^he Lancaster Sketch Book. 

We soon come to the " Chessman place " on the 
right. This farm was first settled bj a man by the 
name of Bruce. Just on the opposite side of the 
road is the " Brooks farm." 

The highway ends here, but by the courtesy of tlie 
owners of the land, people are allowed to drive on 
by the bank of the river and through the meadow, 
to the highway. 

On our right the shininsf river rolls alono^, its 
banks o'erhung with alders and birch. Just on the 
other side we see the old Hopkins place, now owned 
by the Rhodes brothers. 

Eighteen noble elms stand gracefully grouped 
together in the foreground, making a beautiful and 
conspicuous feature in the landscape. Long 
may they be spared from the relentless ax and 
saw. 

On our left the broad meadow rolls away for a 
mile. Dancing; shadows of light and shade from 
the great banks of soft, white clouds, that float 
majestically through the sky, chase each other over 
the billowy grass. 

Gradually the ground rises from this green plane, 
and we see the farms on the slope of Mt. Pleasant 
and Stebbins' hill. The color of the different har- 
vests contrast pleasantly with the dark green of the 



The Laiicastei' Sketch Book. 75 

pine trees that cover the hillsides. Above all, Mt. 
Prospect looks down like some patriarch over the 
wide family of hills settled comfortably about 
him. 

Far aw'ay to the west the horizon is framed with 
hills, the most distant seem to touch " high heaven," 
and lose themselves amid the clouds. 

We drive on through this sea of green, ar- 
riving at the South Lancaster road just by the 
" Weeks place." 

Turning to our left, we are on the way to the vil- 
lage, soon passing on our right the " Brackett 
place," and on the left the farms of Messrs. Hil- 
liard and Woodward, formerly owned by Rowell 
brothers^ 

Going along another mile and a half, we see the 
village cosily situated along a level plane, just un- 
der the rim of the hills, presenting from this view 
an entirely different aspect than from Sand 
Hill. 

From the top of Baker Hill we get a fine point of 
the White Mountains and Pilot range. 

This drive should be considered one of the most 
delightful short drives, affording as it does, 
varied and charming views of river, meadows and 
mountains. 



76 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

A TRUE STORY. 

The following incident which I am about to re- 
late is true, but all who were interested in the oc- 
currence, save one, departed many years ago, on 
that " long journey from whence none ever return." 

No doubt all who are acquainted with the sur- 
roundings of the village, have noticed four very 
handsome elm trees, that stand near a little brook, 
on the south-east corner of the lot now owned by 
Parker J. Xoyes. These trees w^ere set out about 
seventy years ago, by a woman of the name of 
Hart, who had a rude little cottage near there. 

No trace of the humble home remains. The 
hands that brought the little saplings from the 
woods, and planted them by her door, have long 
since mouldered into dust, but the trees are stand- 
ing, graceful and stately monuments to her memory,, 
and the brook still chatters over the stones, singing 
as it goes, 

" Men may come, and men may go, 
But I go on forever." 

In the year 1S12, there \vas living in Canada a 
man and wife by name of Hart. Their home had 
formerly been in Massachusetts, but for some rea- 
son they had removed to Canada. Mr. Hart had 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 77 

purchased a good farm, and these people, who were 
no longer voung, had every prospect of spending 
their decUning days in comfort and prosperity, but 
all these anticipations were destroyed, by the declar- 
ation of the war of 1812, which occurred on the 
iSth of June of that year. 

Soon\n edict from the king, proclamimg 
that the property of all the citizens of Canada, 
who would not take arms against the United States, 
should be confiscated to the crown. Although it 
must have been a hard decision, Mr. Hart did not 
hesitate to relinquish all the property he had, 
rather than espouse the cause of the enemies of his 

native land. 

Leaving his home, he started with his wife for the 
States. Having relatives residing at Jefferson, X. 
H., he decided to go there ; but the loss of his 
property, together with bad health, so preyed upon 
his mind, that within a short time he became insane. 
Mr. Hart lived a few years in this unfortunate con- 
dition. His wife took care of him, and did what 
she could toward their support, his relations assist- 
ing her. After his death, she decided to go to 
Lancaster to live, hoping to get more work to do 

there. 

The rude cottage, consisting of only one room, 



jS The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

was built for her, on the spot I have mentioned ^ 
and she took possession of it, Hving there a num- 
ber of years, supporting herself by spinning and 
weaving, receiving gratefully the presents of food 
and other things, that kind people sent her. 

Mrs. Hart was a woman of some education, and 
as I am informed, "a good Christian," believing 
firmly in the teachings of the Bible ; but in the 
course of time she grew rather eccentric, living so 
much alone, and like many elderly people, dreamed 
dreams and saw visions. W'th the passing years 
she grew very infirm, but still she lived on in her 
little home, though she seemed to be too aged to 
be left alone. 

Some may inquire why a poor and almost help- 
less woman, was left to live in this way. In those 
days, there were no comfortable places for such 
people to go to. The poor were put up at public 
auction, to be bid off by the lowest bidder, who 
was to board them, at the expense of the town. 

Mrs. Hart, who had once been in good circum- 
stances, still had considerable pride, and would not 
consent to be sold at auction, like a bale of goods, 
or live stock. 

One cold morning, late in the fall, a boy about 
twelve years of age, started with his gun on his 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 79 

shoulder, for a walk through the woods, hoping to 
find some partridges or other game. 

As he came in the vicinity of Mrs. Hart's house, 
he could hear boys laughing and shouting, " Why 
don't you get up, you old witch ? " Hastening on, 
he soon came in sight of two boys, about his own 
age, who were throwing stones into the brook, and 
splashing the cold water upon Mrs. Hart, who had 
fallen, in attempting to dip a pail of water from 
the brook. The ground being frozen and icy along 
the bank, she had fallen in such a way that her feet 
were submerged in the water. 

Calling out to the boys to desist m their cruel 
conduct, John, as we will call him, ran to the as- 
sistance of the poor old woman. 

With great difficulty he got her up, and partly 
carrying and partly dragging her, got her into her 
house, and on the bed. 

Mrs. Hart was so exhausted, with cold and fright, 
that she could hardly speak. John saw that the 
fire in the little fireplace was out, and there was no 
wood to rekindle it. He went out and collected 
some sticks, made a good fire, and then asked Mrs. 
Hart if she had anything to eat in the house. She 
replied, " Xot much — some potatoes." Boys, sixty 
years ago, did not have much money, but John had 



So The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

a silver " fo-pence half penny " piece in his pocket, 
one he had kept for a long time. Telling Mrs. 
Hart he would soon return, he ran down the hill to 
the first store he came to, and exchanged his silver 
piece for some crackers. These he carried back to 
the old woman, whom he found sitting by ,the fire, 
trying to dry her wet clothing. Having now done 
all he could for her comfort, he was about to leave, 
when Mrs. Hart raised her withered hand and bade 
him come to her. "John," she said, " remember 
the words of an old woman, whose sands of life 
are almost run. I should have died by the brook- 
side, with the laughter and jeering remarks of those 
wicked boys ringing in my ears, had it not been for 
you, but it has been my death blow. I want you 
to listen to what I am about to say, and remember 
it is the prophecy of a dying woman:" 

"I see you, as in a vision, growing up to manhood, 
respected by all. You will become prosperous; 
land and money will be yours; a happy home, with 
wife and children to be a blessing and comfort to 
3^ou, and your days will be long upon the earth ; 
but those boys who saw me, stooping with age and 
infirmity, slip on the icy ground, and instead of 
coming to my assistance, threw stones, and derided 
me with laughter and scorn, the judgment of God 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. Si 

AviH follow. A comfortable or hajDpv home, neither 
will ever have, and disgrace and ruin will follow 
their footsteps. You will live to see this fulfilled, 
and remembering what has happened to-day, ai:- 
knowledge my prophecy proved correct." Mrs. 
Hart uttered these words in a very impressive man- 
ner. 

Soon after, John left the cottage, and thought as 
he walked away, that he would always remember 
what the old woman had said. 

He was a poor boy, and had not any faith that 
such a good fortune could be for him. The next 
day a neighbor, who went to see Mrs. Hart, found 
the door fastened, and receiving no answer to re- 
peated raps, burst the door open, and found the old 
lady lying upon her bed, insensible. Other neigh- 
bors w^ere called in, and the doctor sent for, but all 
efforts to arouse her proved unavailing. It was 
decided to move her to a more comfortable place. 
She was carried to a house near by, where, within 
two days, she died. 

More than fifty years have passed since the death 
of Mrs. Hart. What has become of the three bovs, 
whose future she predicted? Singular as it may 
seem, the prophecy has been fulfilled. 

One, soon after reaching manhood, committed a 



82 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

criminal offense, and was sentenced to a long term 
in the state prison, where he died before the expir- 
ation of the sentence. 

The other grew up, worthless and dissipated, 
and his last days were spent in the poor house. 

John, by hard work, economy and temperance, 
acquired a competence. Is now surrounded by all 
the comforts of life. A good wife and children 
make his declining days happy, and he is an hon- 
ored citizen of our town. 



THE SOLILOQUY OF THE OLD ACADEMY. 

Surely this is a world of change; when I look 
back over my past life, and recall all I have been 
through, I wonder there is an original board left on 
my frame. 

It seldom falls to the lot of a building, to experi- 
ence the vicissitudes that I have. When I was new ! 
Ah, me! how long ago! I stood at the north end 
of the village, and was known as the court house. 
To be sure I was not a very handsome building, but 
many far more elegant edifices have not sheltered 
people of the talent and education I have. 

I can recall with pride, the names of Daniel Web- 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 83 

ster, Levi Woodbury, Ichabod Bartlett, Joseph Bell 
and others, whose voices have been heard within 
my walls. 

I was not only used for a court house, but also for 
religious services by the Methodist society, before 
their church was built, and have been occupied by 
the Masonic Fraternity. It will not do for me to 
reveal the remarkable scenes I have witnessed dur- 
ing their meetings, or I might in my old age share 
the fate of John Morgan. 

After a number of years, it was considered neces- 
sary to build a new court house ; about that time 
the people were talking of starting a high school, 
and it was thought best to convert me into an acad- 
emy. This was done, and for several years I 
was used for that purpose on the spot above nien- 
tiDued. After a while it was decided to remove me 
to a more central location; accordingly I was taken 
down the street, to the spot where the academy now 
stands. I did not so very much mind the journey. 
I was, comparatively speaking, young then, and 
rather liked the idea of a change. 

I stood the trip very well, although I must admit 
I got a pretty severe shaking, and was very glad to 
get settled. 

I was somewhat enlarged, new desks were put in. 



84 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

A steeple was built, in which a bell was hung, which 
is now on the graded school building. 

I remember with pride, the large number o»f 
learned and accomplished gentlemen, who taught 
the school during the years I was the " academy," 
Every day, men and women pass me, who received 
most of their education beneath my roof, and many 
have gone forth into the " great world," but I have 
no doubt memory often reverts to the peaceful 
shades of this village, and happy school days, passed 
in the " old academy." 

With the passing years, I became old-fashioned, 
and rather dilapidated, and it was considered best to 
have a new building for the school; so I was sold 
to a society known as " Baptists," and was moved 
farther down the street, and on the opposite side. 
I felt sorry to leave the spot where I had stood so 
long, and where I had hoped to spend my days. I 
was then completely remodeled. The old desks 
were removed, new windows put in, and pews made, 
an alcove and raised platform were built at one end, 
on which a pulpit was placed. At the right of the 
pulpit was an orchestra, where an organ was put, 
a carpet was laid down, and church furniture put in. 
I felt rather proud of my appearance, w4ien all was 
accomplished, I was no longer the ." old academy," 
but the " Baptist church." 



Tlie Lancaster Sketch Book. 85 

My prosperity, however, was short-lived. Meet- 
ings were held quite regularly for a while, but I 
conclude from what I overheard, that the financial 
condition of the society was rather low. They 
could not support 'a minister. Occasionally a ser- 
vice would be held, but they became less and less 
frequent and farther apart, until they finally ceased. 

Then came a sad period in my life. One who 
has been useful, dislikes to find themselves stand for 
nothing in a community. I was occasionally used 
for temperance or prayer meetings, but most of the 
time I was left lonely and sad, with plenty of time 
to repent of my vanity, and the airs I had assumed, 
at being converted into a church. 

After a few years I passed out of the hands of 
the Baptist society, but still remained useless. 

One day I was aroused from the stupid condition 
into which I had fallen, by having my doors and 
window bhnds thrown open. Some men came and 
commenced to take out the pews. I wondered what 
was going to happen, and listened attentively to 
their talk. I soon discovered another change a- 
waited me. I w^as to be made into, an " armory." 
What a life they do lead me! I thought; but still I 
had rather wear out than rust out. 

All appearance of a church disappeared. A nice 



86 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

hard wood floor was laid down, and soon I began 
to present a very war-like appearance. Soldiers' 
accoutrements were placed about my walls, and my 
floor resounded to the martial tread of armed men. 
I was now an " armory," and should have been 
rather proud, only I remembered my experience as 
" church." An entire change now took place in 
my life. 

Instead of religious services, dances and merry- 
makings were in order. I will admit I was shocked 
at first, at the idea of turning a church into a danc- 
ing hall, but soon found out I was old-fashioned in 
my notions, and resigned myself to my fate. 

During the time I was an " armory," I was fre- 
quently used for other things. Ice cream festivals, 
sewing circles, sociables, etc., but the most surpris- 
ing thing of all, was the roller skating. The jars 
and severe treatment I received by those people, 
was something awful, and the noise nearly made 
me crazy. I was only too thankful when it was 
decided to go where there was more room, 

I should have had a very dull time after that, on- 
ly for some musical rehearsals, which I enjoyed 
very much. 

One day as I was thinking over the past, and re- 
gretting that I could not be made more useful in my 



The La7icastcr Sketch Book. 87 

old age, I heard some men come in. They com- 
menced to take down the guns and other soldierly 
equipments, and carry them out. 

" What's cominor now? " I thought. Ag;ain I lis- 
tened to the conversation, and was astonished to 
hear I was going to be a " public library ! " 

Workmen soon began to put up book-shelves, 
and make other alterations, to fit me for the new 
position I was to occupy. 

I think the painting of my exterior has given me 
more pleasure than anything that has been done. I 
was getting so shabby I was really ashamed of my- 
self. The color is so suitable for my age, too, " neat 
but not gaudy." 

I declare, it makes me feel quite chipper, to think 
I am to have such an honorable position. I trust 
that after all my trying experiences, my last days 
may be passed as a library, but after what I have 
been through, I am prepared for anything. 

The Old Academy. 



THE DRIVE AROUND THE GORE 

Who that has taken the drive around the Gore 
does not remember it with pleasure? We leave 



88 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

the village by Middle street. The road is gradually 
ascending until we reach the " Bush farm." From 
this point, the view is exceedingly lovely. On the 
left is the Pilot range, towering over the interven- 
ing hills. These mountains seem to be a favorite 
ground for shadows, and from here the mantle of 
spotted light and shade that envelop them, is admir- 
ably displayed. In front, the road can be seen 
winding; along: for some distance, bordered on either 
side with pleasant, homelike looking houses. On 
the right are the undulating meadows of Israel's 
river, whose circuitous course can be easily traced 
through the green verdure, by the trees and bushes 
that overhang its banks. This little valley is one 
of the pleasantest places in Lancaster — shut in on 
either side by hills, piled together in every way that 
is picturesque. 

We soon pass on our left, the " Freeman place," 
originally the home of Samuel White, father of 
Nathaniel White, who left his home at an early age, 
for Concord, N. H. Arriving there with only one 
shilling in his pocket, by industry, economy and 
temperance, he accumulated a large fortune. 

We drive along the smooth, hard road, passing, 
on the left by the " Weeks place," a long row of 
tamarack trees, which were set out many years ago 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. So 

by ]Mr. Hemminway, a former owner of the place. 
On our right is the httle brick house, known for 
many years as the " Whipple place." The brick- 
yard, which used to be on t'he opposite side of the 
road, has disappeared. 

On we go, passing the pleasant homes of the 
Spauldings, crossing the bridge over the " great 
brook," w^e ascend the hill by the " Smith place." 
On the right is a charming view of Mt. Prospect 
and Pleasant, and the farm-houses and orchards, on 
the south road leading to Jefferson. 

Passing the Stalbird and Savage places, we ar- 
rive at the " Cummings farm," where the road 
curves to the left. On the right is a grand and ex- 
tensive view. Beyond the swells and rolls of land, 
Jefferson Mills is seen, somewhat to the left are the 
houses of Jefferson Hill, and rising above all, the 
glistening summits of the White Mountains. 

The north road can be seen the whole distance, 
and the cleared land, patches of grain and corn on 
the slope and base of the Pilot range, all making a 
beautiful landscape picture of 

'• Cultivated slopes, and tracts of tbrest ground and scattered 

groves, 
And mountains bare, or clothed with ancient forests." 

Before reaching the " Stillings place," the road is 



^o The Lancaster Sketch Book, 

bordered on either side for some distance with beau- 
tiful maple trees. Whoever planted them, deserves 
to be gratefully remembered. Leaving the road to 
Jefferson, we are on the direct way around the 
Gore. 

Very soon we enter one of the most beautiful 
pieces of woods in Lancaster. The road, white and 
hard, stretches away like the aisle of a cathedral, 
and is lost beneath the leafy arches of maple and 
beech. 

Emerging from this lovely place, and crossing a 
little bridge that spans another portion of the great 
brook. Garland's mills are seen on the left, and we 
presently pass a neat cottage house, recently erected 
by E. C. Garland, who is experimenting in hatch- 
ing chickens by artificial incubation. 

Driving on, w^e presently pass a beautiful maple 
grove on the hillside at the left, known as " Pilot 
Heights Grove," a favorite place for picnics. 

On the right, beyond the cultivated land, are acres 
of primeval forest, as yet untouched by the ax of the 
woodman. Above and beyond these woods, Percy 
Peaks and Cape Horn are boldly outlined against 
the sky. 

Passing the Plaisted and Stockwell farms, we 
hear the hum of a saw-mill, and very soon we see 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 91 

on- the right Stockwell's mills and the Grange. 
Another mile brings us into the " out east " road 
just by the " Week's place." From here we return 
on the same road by which we left the village, and 
finish our delightful drive, just as 

" Slowly o'er the pleasant landscape 
Falls the eveninsc's dusk and coolness." 



THE FARRAR HOUSE MYSTERY. 

The house in which the following remarkable 
event occurred, was situated on the spot where the 
Catholic parsonage now stands, and was known as 
the Farrar house. 

It is only a few years since this house, which was 
a large two-story building, was taken down, and 
there are many, now living in town, who knew the 
Farrar family, but as far as I have been able to as- 
certain, the only one now living in the village, who 
was here in 1S18, the year in which this incident 
transpired, is Mrs. Allen Smith, who was a girl of 
eighteen at that time, and was teaching school here. 
She was familiar with the whole affair, and I am 
indebted to her for the following account. 

At the time I am writing of, this house was occu- 



92 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



pied by Deacon Farrar and wife, a young man by 
name of George Kibby, a relative of Mrs. Farrar's,. 
and a young girl, Hannah Nute, who assisted Mrs» 
Farrar about the housework. She was a small, 
delicate looking girl, w^ith very pretty blue eyes^ 
and brown hair. 

Deacon Farrar, as his name indicates, was deacon 
of the Congregational church, a lawyer by profes- 
sion, and had for some years been clerk of the court. 
He was a small, spare man, very agreeable and 
pleasant in his manners. Besides discharging his 
duties as deacon, he was also a member of the choir,, 
and played upon a very large bass viol. 

Mrs. Farrar was a tall, thin woman, with dark 
hair, which she wore arranged in little curls at each 
side of her face; and she always wore a turban- 
shaped cap, which gave her a very majestic appear- 
ance. She was very dignified in her manners, and 
a little inclined to be aristocratic; but a most excel- 
lent woman, and a devout member of the church. 

Hannah Nute occupied a bedroom on the ground 
floor and opening out of the kitchen, the other mem- 
bers of the family slept up-stairs. One night Han- 
nah was awakened by hearing a loud rap under 
her bed. She was much startled, but thinking it 
might be the rats in the cellar, was just going to 



The Laiicaster Sketch Book. 93 

sleep, when she was again disturbed by hearing 
three distinct raps in the same place. Thoroughly 
aroused and frightened, she jumped from her bed, 
ran through the kitchen to the hall, and up the stairs, 
calling, " Oh! Mrs. Farrar, Mrs. Farrar," as she fell 
almost fainting at her chamber door. 

" What do you mean, Hannah, by giving me such 
a fright? I thought the house was on fire," said 
Mrs. Farrar, opening the door. 

" There is some one under my bed," said Hannah, 
gasping for breath. 

" What nonsense, you have been dreaming." 

" Oh, no! I wan't asleep, and they rapped three 
times very loud on the floor." 

" Oh, Hannah, I am surprised that you should be so 
foolish, but come, I will go down with you and look 
under your bed." 

" Oh, hadn't you better get the deacon to go and 
look, I am sure some one is there?" but Mrs. 
Farrar was ah'eady half way down stairs, and with 
fear and trembling, Hannah followed her. Mrs. Far- 
rar stopped in the kitchen and lighted a candle by the 
coals that were still brightlv glowing on the hearth, 
and going into Hannah's room looked under the 
bed. Hannah had not ventured into the room. 

" Come here and look for vourself. Now are 



94 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

you convinced you were dreaming ? " said Mrs. 
Farrar, as Hannah stepped into the room. Just at 
that moment, three distinct raps came, apparently 
from beneath the girl's feet. 

She gave a loud scream and ran into the kitchen, 
Mrs. Farrar following rather quickly for her. 

" Oh, some one is in the cellar, do call the deacon,'* 
said Hannah. 

Just then George Kibby, who had been awakened 
by Hannah's screams, came rushing into the kitchen, 
calling out, "What is the matter?" closely followed 
by the deacon, who said, " Why, wife! what is this 
commotion? " 

Mrs. Farrar explained the cause of this unusual 
excitement, and as if to corroborate her statement, 
there came a succession of loud raps on the kitchen 
floor. 

" There," screamed Hannah. 

" This is really alarming," said Mrs. Farrar. 

" I will soon find out what is making this disturb- 
ance," said the deacon, taking the long iron fire- 
shovel in one hand, and the candlestick in the other, 
and starting for the cellar door. George took the 
tongs and followed, Mrs. Farrar brandishing a 
broom, and Hannah, with a big stick of wood, 
brought up the rear. The cellar was thoroughly 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



95 



searched, but nothing was discovered. 

By this time they were all very much alarmed. 
A fire was built in the kitchen, and they gathered 
around it to talk the matter over. 

"Deacon," said Mrs. Farrar, " I think it is a 
warning. I have heard of such things." 

" I think that the house is haunted," said 
George. 

" Well," said the deacon, " it is certainly a singu- 
lar and startling phenomenon, and I think George 
had better go for Parson Willard." 

" Perhaps it is best," said Mrs. Farrar. 

Meanwhile the rapping continued at short inter- 
vals. Hannah became almost prostrated with fright, 
the neighbors were sent for, and in the early morn- 
ing the parson came; he could offer no explanation 
for the remarkable disturbance. 

It was thought proper under the circumstances to 
hold a religious service, the great family Bible w^as 
brought from the parlor, and a portion of the Script- 
ures read, and prayers offered, but still the raps 
were heard. 

A thorouo;h investis^ation of the house and cellar 
was made, and the blinds on the outside examined; 
but nothing could be found to throw the least light 
on this mysterious rapping. It was, however, as- 



96 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

certained that the raps only came in the room where 
Hannah was, and seemed to follow her; some per- 
sons thought she must in some way cause them. As 
the days went by and there was no cessation of 
this rapping, the whole town became excited ; the 
house was thronged with people from this, and the 
adjoining towns, who came to visit the " haunted 
house." 

As many of the people in the village were of the 
opinion that Hannah Nute must in some way cause 
the raps, it was decided to have her watched, and 
four of the leading men of the town were appoint- 
ed as an investigating committee. They tied the 
girl's hands and feet, and laid her on a bed, they 
then sat down by her, two on each side of the bed. 
In that way she was watched for a day and night, 
but meanwhile the raps were heard, on the walls 
and floor, and even on the bedstead, but only in the 
room where Hannah was. 

The committee decided that they could not in any 
way account for the raps. Some of the people 
thought it was a warning to the family of some 
misfortune that would shortly follow, while others 
said it must be the work of the devil. The knowl- 
edge of knowing that she was suspected of making 
the raps, had made Hannah quite ill, and she beg- 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 97 

ged to be sent away. On the day she left the house, 
the raps were more frequent than they had been, 
and as she passed through the hall to the door, 
seemed to follow her, and came with great force on 
the floor, but that was the last of the raps, whatever 
it was that caused them, whether 

" Good spirits or bad, 
Black spirits or white," 

seemed to leave the house when Hannah did. 

Deacon Farrar a^d family occupied the house for 
many years after, and never were troubled by a 
repetition of this remarkable occurrence, which has 
always remained unexplained, and the rappings at 
the Farrar house are still spoken of as a great mys- 
tery. 



THE DRIVE TO THE TOP OF MT. PROSPECT. 

The drive to the top of Mount Prospect is very 
pleasant, and easily and safely accomplished by the 
good carriage-road, that has been made quite to the 
top by W. H. Smith, who has built a comfortable 
hotel, large enough to accommodate thirty-five 
guests, on the summit of this mountain. 



98 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

Leaving the village by the Sand Hill, we drive 
along the Whitefield road for a mile and a half, 
when we take a road leading to the left. Another 
half mile brings us to the little toll-house at the foot 
of the mountain, from here to the top of the moun- 
tain the distance is three-quarters of a mile. The 
first of the way is only slightly ascending; as we 
go on, we come to some steep pitches, but our horses 
have no difficulty in taking us safely over them. 
The road winds in such a way that the house is not 
visible until we turn the last curve, when we come 
right upon it. The genial landlord, Mr. W. H. 
Smith, stands on the steps to receive us, and we are 
soon landed on the broad piazza. 

Mount Prospect is 2090 feet above tide- water, 
1240 feet above Lancaster village. From the front 
piazza of the hotel we see in the foreground Cher- 
ry Mountain and, beyond, the whole Presidential 
range, crowned in the center by the dome of Mt, 
Washington. The belts of pine, and farther up, the 
gorges and ravines that sear the mountain's sides, 
are easily discerned. The railway and Summit 
House on Mt. Washington can be readily dis- 
tinguished without the aid of a telescope. On the 
right we look down on Mt. Pleasant, Mt. Orne and 
Martin meadow pond, glistening like a great mir- 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. C)Cf 

ror in a setting of green hills that hem it in on all 
sides. Just between these mountains, but far in the 
distance, can be seen the tapering spire of a church 
in Lunenburg. Turning towaro the north-west, 
we see the broad valley of the Connecticut, whose 
course can be traced for forty miles in sweeping 
curves through the luxuriant intervals and by hills 
clothed with forests, as with stately grace it flows 
down to the sea. Just in the foreground are the 
farms of Howe, Hodgdons, and the Daniel Stebbins' 
place, now known as the " Smith farm." The 
patches of corn, grain, groves of maple and pine, 
the farm-houses shaded by apple-trees, and farther 
on beyond the rolling hills, the village of Lancaster, 
cosily situated in the valley below, all make a 
beautiful picture. One might almost imagine, as 
they gaze down upon this scene of peace, plenty 
and purity, that it was some nook of primitive Eden, 
but " distance lends enchantment to the view." 

Six villages, four hundred farms, and thirteen 
jDonds, can be seen from the top of Mount Pros- 
pect, all surrounded by a mighty chain of mountains 
seven hundred miles in length. It is quite impos- 
sible for us to describe the extensive panorama of 
charming views that are presented from this mount- 
ian. The outlook is grand in every direction. In 



lOO The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

order to fully enjo}^ the trip, one should remain 
over night and witness the gorgeous beauties of the 
sunset and sunrise. 

We see no reason why " Hotel Prospect" should 
not become a favorite resort. The cool bracing air 
will bring healing to the invalid, and the marvelous 
beauty of the view afford peace and rest to the 
weary. 

The drive down the mountain and to the village 
is quickly accomplished, as it is nearly all the wa}' 
descending. The sun is just sinking behind the 
Vermont hills, shedding a golden splendor over the 
meadows, and tinging the Pilot range and Percy 
Peaks with rose-color, as we drive down Sand Hill 
into the villasfe. 



GREAT GRANDMA'S CARPET. 

The following sketch, although wn-itten in the 
form of a story, is strictly true. The grand-mother 
w^as Mrs. Persis Everett, wife of Judge Everett, 
and the carpet was made for a room in what is now 
known as the " Cross house." The writer has seen 
pieces of the carpet. 

" Mother," said Annie Belmont, " It is a lovelv 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. loi 

morning. Don't you want to go down to Porter & 
Gray's and choose our new carpets? You know 
we must get them down before cousin Dora comes 
next week." 

" Yes, I will go with you; but I must write some 
letters first. I will be ready in an hour." 

" Annie," said Grandma Belmont, who was sit- 
ting by the fire knitting, " while your mother is 
writing, don't you want me to tell you how my 
mother got a carpet? " 

"Oh, yes, grandma! You know there is noth- 
ing I like so well as having you tell an old-fashioned 
story." 

" Well, my dear, you know, seventy-five years 
ago, carjDets were not very common. Very few 
people had them. There was none made in this 
country, and an English carpet was very expensive." 

" What did you have on the floors, grandma? " 

" Nothing — not even paint; but they were scoured 
white as sand could make them. My mother had 
only one carpet in the house^ and that was on the 
parlor floor. It was a green and black English car- 
pet. I suppose my mother made the first carpet 
that was ever manufactured in New Hampshire, or 
even in New England. Your great-grandfather 
was a lawyer, and, at that time, Lancaster was not 



102 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

a shire town; the courts were held at Haverhill. 
But after a while, Lancaster was made a shire town. 
Wlien father came home from the spring term of 
court at Haverhill, he said the next fall the court 
would sit in Lancaster, and as there was no suitable 
place for the judges to board, he had promised to 
take them in. They used to have three judges — 
the chief justice and two side judges. I am sure I 
don't know what they were called side judges for, 
unless it was because one sat on each side of the 
■judge who attended to all the business. I have of- 
ten been into court with father, and I never heard 
one say a word. They just sat there and looked 
wase. Mother was surprised enough when father 
said he was going to board the judges. 

' Wh}', father,' she said, ' w^hat are you thinking 
of? There is not room enough in the house.' 

' No,' said father, ' but there will be by fall. I 
am groine to have an addition of two rooms built on 

o o 

to the house.' 

' I don't see,' said mother, ' how we can get car- 
pets; but if you are going to have the judges board 
here, I will see what can be done.' 

It w^as not ver}^ long before father had some men 
at work on the new rooms, and mother began to 
think something must be done about the carpets. 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



103 



So she went up to see Eunice Stockwell, and talked 
it over with her. She was the best hand to weave 
there was anywhere round. 

We had lots of sheep and plenty of wool, so 
mother took forty pounds and had it carded into 
rolls. Then she got Nancy Greenleaf and Lucy 
White to come and spin it. 

It was spun into good strong yarn, four skeins to 
a pound. I was a little girl, but it seems to me I 
can see Nancy and Lucy now, just as they looked 
spinning. They had their wheels up in the great 
open chamber. It was in summer time, and the 
windows were open at each end of the room. I 
used to go up there and sit on an old chest by the 
window, and watch them spin. Nancy was tall 
and slim, and had light hair, which she w^ore done 
up in a little ball on the top of her head, fastened 
with a big comb. She wore her dresses quite short, 
and as she stepped back and forth turning her wheel, 
she was always singing. I never heard her \-ary 
the tune or words: 

" Come, Philander, let's be marching.' 

She would come down heavy on the ' ching.' 
Who Philander was, or where he was going to 
march, I never could find out. I used to ask her to 
sing some more, but she said that was all she knew. 



I04 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



Lucy was a real pretty girl; she had black eyes 
and red cheeks; she used to make fun of Nancy 
and her song. Well, in a few weeks, the spinning 
was all done; then mother had the yarn carried up 
to Eunice Stockwell to be woven, and before long 
it was sent home — a great roll of white flannel. 
Then it had to be carried to Haverhill, to be fulled 
and colored. It was about thirty miles to Haver- 
hill, and the only wav to go was on horseback. 
Job, who was one of the hired men, packed it on to 
a horse, and started with it. 

Meantime, mother had been coloring yarn — red, 
yellow, green and blue. She had to make all her 
dyes herself, but she had some bright, handsome 
colors. I remember how pretty it looked, hanging 
out on the line drying. 

After a while, the cloth came home — three great 
rolls of dark brown, heavy cloth. Then it was cut 
into breadths, the length of the room, and mother 
and Aunt Betsy marked them off into squares, about 
a foot each way, so they would match when it was 
sewed together. 

In each square was a large star. It was worked 
in what you call Kensington stitch. That's noth- 
ing but just the old-fashioned marking stitch. The 
squares were worked in green, the stars in yellow^ 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 105 

and ill each point of the stars were little stars, worked 
in different colors; and so the whole carpet was 
made by hand. It was real handsome when it was 
done. Folks came from all around to see it." 

" How I wish I could have seen it, grandma! 
Think of working a whole carpet by hand I I have 
been nearly all winter doing a table-spread. But 
how did they get the furniture for the rooms? " 

" Father started for Portland on horse-back — 
that was the nearest place where furniture could be 
bought." 

" How far was it, grandma? " 

" A hundred miles, and most of the way through 
the woods. But there was a good road, and teams 
always going and coming. 

Father told mother to send Job along with the 
ox-team, after he had been gone two days. Father 
got home several days before Job, but at last he 
came with a bio- load of thins^s. 

There were two high-posted bed-steads, looking- 
glasses, tables and chairs, but what I thougl-rt; was 
nicest of all, were two great bell- metal basins." 

" What were they for? " 

" They were to fill the place of the earthern 
wash-bowls we have nowadays. None were to be 
had then. Bell-metal and pewter basins were used 
instead. 



io6 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

Well, the rooms looked very nice when they were 
done. Mother put up some green and white checked 
bed-curtains, home-made, out of flax and wool, and 
trimmed with yellow fringe. 

When court set, in November, the judges came 
to our house, and always after for every term of 
court for many years. 

Now, all you have to do when you want a car- 
pet, is to go to the store and select it; but I am sure 
you can never have one you can feel half so proud 
of as mother did of hers." 

" Come, Annie," said Mrs. Belmont, entering the 
room, with her bonnet on, " I am ready to go now." 

" Thank you, grandma, for your story. I am 
afraid I have lost some of my interest in buying the 
new carpets. I wish we could make some, as my 
great-grandma did." 



, THE DRIVE OYER PAGE HILL. 
The drive over Page Hill to the Northumberland 
road, returning by the Beattie pine woods, a dis- 
tance of seven miles, is probably less frequented 
than any in this vicinity. One reason is no doubt 
owing to the road, which is in some places rather 



The Laiicaster Sketch Book. 107 

rough, but chiefly because the scenery in that local- 
ity is not supposed to be very attractive, at least that 
is what we thought until recenth^, when on one 
pleasant afternoon, when the sunshine was tempered 
b\^ a gentle vvest wind, and a shower had laid the 
dust and made grass and foliage wear a fresher green, 
we took this drive over Page Hill. 

We leave the village by North street, and, after 
crossing the railroad track, take the road leading to 
the right. A few rods brings us to the house of 
Mr. John W. Stevens, just at the foot of the hill. 
Page Hill, derives its name from Mr. David Page, 
one of the first settlers of the town, and who was 
the first owner of this land. This hill is not ver}' 
steep, and we soon reach the top. Looking back 
toward the west, we get a lovely view of the Con- 
necticut, winding its devious way through the green 
meadows. As we go on, we pass on the right, the 
farm of Mr. George H. Stalbird. A field of ripen- 
ing oats, golden in the afternoon sunshine, make a 
pleasant contrast with the brighter green of the sur- 
rounding fields. On the left, beyond the cultivated 
fields, pastures and wood-lots, are the green hills of 
Vermont. Now we come to the Moore place, and 
pass on the right, an orchard, the trees loaded with 
apples. Just here we notice a road on the left. 



loS The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

which leads to the " Goodale farm." After passing 
the homes of Messrs. Willard and John Moore, the 
road is not ver\^ good, as it is but httle used beyond 
this point. Another mile brings us to the old Dan- 
iel Spaulding place. ^Slr. Spaulding, the original 
owner of this farm, was the son of Mrs. Phebe 
Spaulding, a woman renowned for her courage and 
determination. The old house is only a ruin, and 
the land is owned by Mr. Horace Holton and oth- 
ers. Of the once large orchard, only a few^ trees re- 
main, and there is but little to indicate that this was 
once a thrifty farm. Just beyond the old house is a 
great flat rock, extending nearly across the road; 
just here we will leave the carriage, and fasten our 
horse to the fence, beneath the shade of an old ap- 
ple tree; then passing through some bars on the 
right, we walk about thirty rods through the field 
to a slight elevation. Ah! does not this grand view 
repay us? In the foreground, we look down upon 
thousands of acres of primeval forest, beyond that 
we see the Gore, Lost Nation, New France, or 
Parks' Mills, and rising above all, like a grand frame 
for this beautiful picture, is the Pilot range, flecked 
with shadows from the soft white clouds floating 
above it. The cleared land and fields of yellow 
grain, extending in some places half way up the 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 109 

mountain sides, the farm houses and mills, all con- 
trast pleasantl}^ with the unbroken forest. Twen- 
ty-five years ago, where we now look down upon 
thirty farms, there had not a clearing been made, 
and the only inhabitants were wolves and bears. 
Turning to the right, we see Mts. Prospect and 
Pleasant, Stebbins Hill, Hodgdon Hill, and get a 
glimpse of the houses of the village in the valley 
below. To the left, seemingly almost within our 
reach, are the Percy Peaks and Mt. Lyon. From 
this j^oint the land in thirteen towns can be seen. 
Reluctantly we turn away from this charming pros- 
pect, and are soon driring on. Grass is growing in 
the road, indicating that it is not much traveled, and 
blackberry bushes, loaded with luscious fruit, bend 
temptingly near us. Arching boughs of golden rod, 
and bunches of purple asters, and elder bloom, light 
up the w^ay side, and glow in patches in the fields. 
The land on either side of the road is rugged and 
rocky, but occasionally we pass a field of oats or 
corn, charming in contrast with the rugged scenery 
by its side. Over hill and down dale w^e go, through 
a wonderful web of light and shade, with a glimpse 
now and again of far off mountain peaks, or undu- 
iatino^ ransres of hills, until drivino- down a hill rather 
steeper than any prev-ious, we come out on to the 



no The Lancaster Sketch Book. 

Northumberland road, just above the raih'oad cross- 
ing. We turn to the left, and find ourselves on a 
smooth, level road, and get a glimpse of the silvery 
gleaming of the Connecticut through the trees on 
the right. Very soon we enter the pine woods and 
inhale the delightful piney odor from the trees. 
Soon we pass on the left the cozy home of Captain 
Beattie, and a little farther on at the right, is the 
" Bellows Place," now owned by Captain Beattie. 
The old house, that has been the scene of many 
happy gatherings and merry makings, was fast fall- 
ing into a dilapidated condition, but has been thor- 
oughly repaired by the present owner. 

We recall the delightful views afforded by this 
drive, we regret that the road is not in a more fav- 
orable condition, if it was, we are sure this would 
become one of the favorite drives in this vicinity. 
The remark made by a Scotchman in regard to his 
own mountainous country-, applies to Coos County 
admirably: " It's a grand country. If it's nae great 
comfort to the purse, it's aye a pleasure to the e'e." 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 1 1 1 



THE OLD CEMETERY. 

To many of the residents of Lancaster, the old 
grave-yard is a sacred spot. There are none of the 
older people who have not followed the remains of 
dear ones through the gate and up the hill to their 
last resting place. 

Recently in strolling through this spot where 

" Each in his narrow cell forever laid, 
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep," 

we stopped to read some of the inscriptions, that in 
some cases furnish facts for biography and history, 
which the cemeteries of our day will afford scant 
material, as the monuments of a recent date, do not, 
in some cases, impart the age of the dead and only 
the initials of the name are used. 

Li publishing some of the inscriptions, which we 
copied with much difficulty from the moss covered 
stones, that time's busy fingers will soon have en- 
tirely effaced, we do so with reverence, thinking 
the quaint and interesting inscriptions should not be 
entirely lost. 

Within a small enclosure, lying flat on the ground, 
is a large stone bearing the two following inscrip- 
tions: 



112 The Lancaster Sketch Book, 

EMMONS STOCKWELL, 

DIED NOV. 8, 1S19, IX THE 78 YEAR OF 
HIS LIFE. 

One of the first settlers of this town, his descendants more than 120. 
Honesty and industry attended him through life. 

Mark the perfect man and behold the upright, for the end of that 
man is peace. 

RUTH, 

WIFE OF EMMONS STOCKWELL, 
DIED MARCH 21, 1828. 

On Other stones in various parts of the ground 
were found the following: 

MRS. RACHEL, 

WIFE OF CAPT. DAVID PAGE, 
DIED APRIL 28, I817. 



MRS. ELIZABETH HUNNEX, 

WIFE OF SAMUEL HUNNEX, 

DIED 1S22, AGED 63. 

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. 

IN MEMORY OF 

MRS. MARY BRACKETT, 

RELICT OF MR. JOSEPH BRACKETT, 
DIED JULY 15, 1814, AGED 70. 
In active usefulness, christian meakness and patience she was rarely 
surpassed. 



The Lancaster Sketch Book. 113 

REV. JOSEPH WILLARD, 

DIED JLLY 22, 1S27, AGED 66 YEARS. 
Vox 28 years pastor of the Con^rej^^iitional Church of this town. 

JONAS BAKER, 

DIED FEB. 14. 1828. 
" An honest man is the noblest work of God." 



ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF 

MRS. BETSY BAKER, 

CONSORT OF JONAS BAKER AND ELDEST 

DAUGHTER OF JONAS WILDER, 

DIED IN 180I. 

STEPHEN ROSEBROOK, 

SON OF JAMES AND PHEBE ROSEBROOK, 
DIED FEB. 17, 1815, AGED II YEARS. 

Death is a debt to nature due, 
Which I have paid and so must you. 
Depart my friends, dry up your tears, 
Here I must lie till Christ appears. 

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF 

MARY, 

CONSORT OF STEPHEN WILSON, 
WHO DIED FEB. 28, 1813, AGED 45. 

Let sorrow change to sacred mirth. 
Know God in love hath given, 

The pure in heart who mourn on earth. 
Perpetual smile in Heaven, 



114 The Lancaster Sketch Book. 



CHARLES STUART, 

COUNSELLOR AT LAW, 
DIED MAY 17, 1837, AGED 46. 



JOHN B. ASPINWALL, 

DIED MAY 25, 1833, AGED 26. 

lle'^s gone and left this world of p.iin, 
This dark and dismal shore, 

We only part to meet again, 
And meet to part no more. 



IX MEMORY OF 

MR. NICHOLAS WHITE, 

WHO DIED MAY 28, 1813, AGED 54. 

Stop, traveler, as you pass by, 

As you are now, so once was I, 
As I am now so you must be. 

Prepare for death and follow me. 

ANDREW ADAMS, 

DIED APRIL 14, 1833, AGED 97. 
The graves of all the Saints He blessed. 

And softened every bed, 
Where should the dying member rest. 
But with the dying Head. 

This monument iserected by North Star Lodge as a tribute of af- 
fectionate respect to the memory of their deceased and worthy brother 

ARA W. BURNAP, 

WHO DIED UNIVERSALLY ESTEEMED AND RESPECTED, 
MARCH 21, 1813. AGED 45. 



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l"il 



